It Ends Now
by AngelMoon Girl
Summary: Harry's 6th year is tormented by Voldemort's decision that his time is up. Bleeding scars, a new DADA teacher, Occlumency with Dumbledore, Snape's loss of spy status due to a rescue gone wrong, and the prophecy are just a few of the trials in store...
1. Attack

Disclaimer: If Harry Potter were mine, it surely would not be the iconic series it is today.

A/N: Please read, review, and enjoy chapter 1! This is a re-posted, edited version (well, more like added-onto version!). Hopefully it is more coherent and descriptive; my original version was just plain pitiful. Oh, the torments of ignorance! I'm currently in the middle of renovating and updating the story itself so you will eventually find that the writing style changes here and there.

SUMMARY: As you can infer, this story follows Harry his sixth year. I posted it as Dumbledore and Harry being the main characters, considering their relationship will be a pivotal part of the story. That is _not_ to say, however, that it'll be all lemon drops and lightning scars every chapter. Along with a DD/HP focus, I'll be developing the Snape and Harry relationship a little more (rest assured, I _hate_ fics where SS and HP are suddenly all nice to each other after little time has passed). You'll see that after sharing a few terrifying experiences together (not gonna give anything away; you'll just have to read on), they become tolerable to each other, I guess you could say. Thirdly, there is a lot of the Golden Trio and now Ginny too. I suppose my point is this: please don't turn your back on this fic because you think the focus will be on Dumbledore and Harry all the time. This is very much a sixth year fic, as opposed to a two-man show.

**~It Ends Now~  
**Author: AngelMoon Girl  
Fandom: Harry Potter  
Genre: Alternate Universe  
Setting: Sixth Year

Part 1: "Attack"

Harry Potter sighed, staring out his window vacantly while brushing a stray lock of ebony hair from his face. It was dark beyond the frame, but not a star was visible in the cloudy canopy above; the sort of night where one would question their own existence under such a consuming abyss. The fifteen year old listlessly began to stroke his snowy owl, Hedwig, as warm July breeze drifted into the small bedroom. His mind slowly tread away from opines on how stifling his room was; instead, it chose to fester on heart-breaking recollections of a night similar to this one... Strange, how the utter darkness echoed his current mood! Ever since a few weeks ago, Harry felt like a hole had been viciously gouged into him. The chasm was the place Sirius once inhabited, but now his godfather was gone- gone, like his parents. Gone, like the optimism he'd once fostered about his future.

Sadness stole over Harry again, and he felt an aching loneliness wash over him. His relatives slumbered close by, but Harry had never felt so isolated from the world than he did now.

_Why, Sirius? Why now? Why you? I need your strength; your comfort... I can't do this alone…_

The Boy-Who-Lived got up quickly, old mattress creaking in protest. He needed to do something; *anything* but brood. Harry feared that if he did, the memories of Sirius' demise would come back, and with it that self-hating guilt. The whole summer had seen Harry moping around; often lying listlessly on his bed as his body was proverbially crushed by emotion. It wasn't until recently that the emerald-orbed one had pulled himself from severe depression, and he didn't relish in toppling back into it.

The seeker moved past the mirror, pausing as the reflection of a foreign teen caught his eye. The glass showcased a skinny- too skinny- boy of fifteen. Startling green eyes stared back at him, but they seemed... lifeless. The spark they normally held was absent; as absent as Dumbledore's twinkling had been on that awful, awful night. The night Harry's whole world fell apart.

In an effort not to relive the Department of Mysteries fiasco, Harry continued appraising the boy in the mirror. He cringed upon noticing how malnourished his ribs looked; how thin his countenance and cheekbones had become. Harry hadn't been eating a lot, preferring solitude and the silence of morning to the glares of his family. For the past two months, Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley had been completely ignoring him and the depression-like state their nephew had collapsed into. They gave him chores, which Harry did without protest. Nothing mattered anymore; what was life without Sirius? Sometimes, the arduous labor even acted as a release. Total concentration did wonders in occupying the mind.

Then, there was the little matter of the Wizarding World.

Every three days this summer, Harry sent a letter to the Order proclaiming his overall good health and spanking well-being. It was such an easy prevarication; so simple... No one ever saw the tears he leaked after a particularly realistic nightmare; no one observed his undernourishment up close... They only knew about the Harry on paper, and the Boy-Who-Lived was shipshape and on the road to recovery there. He hated people worrying over him, so it was a necessary sin to continue committing. What was the use in sharing his feelings with them? Whining over how much he hated the Dursleys was futile. It wasn't like Dumbledore would let him leave! Their talk last year had proved that.

Harry gave an enormous sigh and tumbled backwards onto his bed. Crickets lulled him into a fitful slumber as fatigue finally ensnared the boy in its clutches.

_Darkness shrouded the room, obliviating all sight._

_'Where am I?' Harry squinted, peering around curiously. He tried taking a few steps, but movement was limited. The boy couldn't even feel his legs; they were as solid as jelly. 'Well this is unbearably frustrating...'_

_Suddenly, dots of blue flared up- torches, burning on the walls in a semi-circle around Harry. He watched as a door loomed forward from up ahead, and his stomach lurched with horrible nostalgia._

_'No…not again…'_

_The door creaked open slowly and Harry released a whimper. He watched as Sirius, body twisting and undulating like a practiced and lethal snake, swished his wand-_

_Dueling, with Bellatrix. Again._

_'No, no, no… please, I don't want to watch anymore… Wake up! Wake up!'_

_"Come on, you can do better than that!" Sirius exclaimed, teasing his dangerous cousin into anger. The laughter hadn't quite died from his eyes as the jet of light hit him square in the chest. In a beautifully smooth arch, Sirius flew limp through the eerie veil. It rustled once, then fell quiescent; empty._

_Sirius was gone-_

_Again._

_Like every night this summer vacation._

Harry flew up, gasping as the covers writhed around him. Sweat clung to him like a second skin, hot and sticky. He groaned, wiping the residue away with the end of his sheets. So much for a moment of peaceful sleep...

Melancholy descended on the boy once more, and he slid out of bed and into trainers. Harry needed to get out; inhale some fresh air and clear his mind. If only he'd mastered Occlumency, then nights wouldn't be such a nuisance…

The seeker slunk down the stairs and, careful to avoid the memorized creaks that would rouse the Dursleys, Harry went outside. Again, gentle summer wind whispered through him as Harry walked swiftly down Magnolia Crescent. The easy gale felt pleasant on his face, washing away the aftereffects of his dream. Harry wandered until he reached the playground, then sat down on the same swing he had vacated the summer previous. Lymphatically, Harry glared at the ground. His thoughts began shifting from Sirius to Voldemort.

Harry's hand tightened around the chain. It was all Voldemort's fault; these deaths. The whole world's fate was on Harry's shoulders, and the load was so heavy he felt ready to suffocate at times! Why was it him? Why not someone else? How could he, a mere fifteen year old, defeat the darkest wizard of all time?

_Kill Voldemort or be killed_, Harry thought. _Wow, what a promising future ahead of me_. If possible, Harry's mood drooped even more.

A sudden rustling in the bushes caused Harry to perk up. His heart dropped straight down into his stomach, fear gnawing at the boy's insides as the plant continued swaying.

How could he have been so *stupid*? He was unprotected here; no blood wards, no nothing. And if Harry used magic again, he risked being expelled.

"Dammit," Harry hissed, rummaging around in his pockets.

It was probably nothing, the seeker tried to reassure himself. An animal; maybe a cat. Probably even Ms. Figg's; she often sent her felines on missions. Heck, maybe it was even guarding him! Anyways, since when did Voldemort stake out in bushes, then give himself away so obviously? Dark Wizards had far more intelligence than that!

Just to be on the safe side, Harry brandished his wand, stood up, and pointed it at the bushes with a steady hand. He waited for the arrival of whatever was attempting to separate itself from the thorny leaves.

Suddenly, Dudley Dursley of all people stumbled out. Harry gaped, but didn't lower his wand in suspicion. Dudley had been out earlier, but Harry would've thought he'd have returned home as he slept. What time was it? The fat boy tripped towards Harry, a malodor of beer lingering on the boy's clothes and off his breath.

"Dudley… you're drunk!" Harry realized aloud. Wait until his Aunt and Uncle found out what their precious Diddykins was doing by moonlight, he thought gleefully.

"What's it to you?" Dudley asked in slurred tones, still lumbering onward toward his scrawny cousin. Harry held his ground, not flustered in the slightest. It would be easy to take on an inebriated Dudley.

"Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia will *kill* you!" Harry couldn't help the uppity undertone. But then again, Vernon and Petunia would probably believe Dudley over Harry. He frowned. Oh, crushed dreams.

"Not before I kill you!" Dudley cried, lunging at Harry. The attack was so unexpected that Harry failed to move fast enough. Dudley's whale-like figure slammed into him, fist going back and then connecting with Harry's stomach- hard. Harry grunted, half-surprised and half-winded. He clutched the offending area, gasping for breath and stumbling backward. Balance lost the war and Harry met ground painfully, unable to prevent his wand from escaping his grip. The only weapon available to Harry landed a foot or two away, far from the dorsicumbent one's reach.

Harry tried to grope around for it dazedly, but then Dudley was upon him once again with renewed punches.

"Dudley," Harry choked. He tried to shield his face, but ended up only shattering his glasses. Incarnadine liquid sprayed from spots near his clenched lids, where glass had embedded itself. "Dudley... s-stop!"

But Dudley's glazed eyes were mad and insane, the alcohol enveloping his features and speech.

"You-won't-tell-Mum-and-Dad-now!"

Harry cried out, sure some ribs had broken. But Dudley didn't stop there- his fist found Harry's nose and it burst, blood seeping out each nostril.

"STOP!" A rush of power shot through Harry, and Dudley howled. He jumped off the teen as if having been scalded. The young wizard stumbled up, only thought being of escape. Unfortunately for Harry, a drunk Dudley did not give up as easily as his sober counterpart. Where before a magical shock like that would have sent Dudders running to his Mummy, now Dudley rushed at Harry in renewed fury. He gave Harry a hard push, and next thing the scarred one knew, his head had connected with the swing. It flew back and swung forward again to hit him twice. Harry bit his lip in pain, shivering at the terrible sensation of blood seeping down his nape. More power fizzed through his veins, this time fiercer. It was the same feeling as when Uncle Vernon had been unable to hold him last summer. Dudley yelped as the current in Harry exploded, eyes wide with fright. The fifteen year old's last sight was that of his cousin, bolting homeward, as his vision erupted into red.

Hurting all over, the Boy-Who-Lived managed to pull himself up. He staggered forward, whole body shaking with effort. Harry got in a few steps before crumpling next to his wand. He grasped it desperately, vision blurring into crimson a second time. He realized he could only see out of one eye; the opposite spectacle lens was gone. Belatedly, the boy wondered if the red blocking his sight was blood.

And then, pain seared through his forehead; an agony quite unconnected with the rest of the burning he felt. A wave of fear passed over Harry.

Somehow, *he* knew. And he was coming…

Harry clambered up and swayed, then began to walk forward, each step seeming to zap a little strength out of him. 'Got to get to the Dursleys,' Harry thought. 'I'd rather face ten Dudleys than one Voldemort… '

Harry passed through an alleyway; the very same alleyway he had fought the dementors in the summer previous.

"Hurry, hurry," he moaned, but Harry's legs failed him just as they had in his nightmare. The boy collapsed, flagging knees unable to hold him up any longer. Panting and breathing raggedly, a coughing spell overcame the boy and he hacked violently. Blood spurted out of his mouth, accompanied by an unbearable pain rising in his chest. Harry leaned against the wall, trying to find comfort in the solidity of it.

A dim fog was trying to overpower his body. Through it, Harry discerned a high-pitched, cruel laughing.

Was he reliving Fourth Year, in the graveyard? But no; his scar ached worse than ever; it was a sledgehammer slashing through his head. Harry's senses went acute and he knew with dreadful certainty that it was too late to do anything.

Standing above him, with blood-red eyes, snake-like skin, and slit nostrils, stood Lord Voldemort. His wand was pointed straight at Harry's heart, and a look of pure joy gleamed off his countenance.

TBC


	2. Cornered

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own Harry Potter. If I did I'd be rolling in money. _Sigh_... one can dream.

A/N: This is the re-posted chapter 2. I'm sorry it's rather short; I originally wrote it quickly to get it up sooner. I tried adding more details, but the length still makes me cringe. Same with the next chapter, but they gradually pick up in substance and weight.

Also, always look for my little note that a chapter is the edited one. If you don't see it, it hasn't been fixed yet, so don't review me about all the errors you catch. I know they're there- heck, I used to misspell McGonagall and Pomfrey- and am in the process of tweaking them up. This story is under major renovations, but I refuse to take it down while doing so. If you see mistakes, grin and bear it as I do. Plus, Fanfiction .net used to have an irritating document manager program that always mushed words together that weren't meant to be joined. Their new one is much better, so I'm attempting to go back and fix those blunders as well. Thank you for your patience and understanding! Read on!

**It Ends Now**

Part 2: "Cornered"

"No Dumbledore… no protectors… and cornered like a frightened little animal. My, my, we are in trouble, aren't we?" Voldemort said in a sneering, mocking voice. A look of triumph permeated his normally emotionless face, and he chuckled. "I wish I knew who inflicted all this extra damage on you, Potter. I dearly want to meet them; pass on my congratulations... So, shall we invite more, Harry? This will be interesting…"

Voldemort touched his forearm, where Harry knew the Dark Mark was engraved like a tattoo. Pain made itself known in Harry's forehead, and he bit his lip. He could not; _would not_ show this vile man weakness; he mustn't provide that form of pleasure… A strong urge to vomit filled Harry, and he could not resist his gag reflex. The fifteen year old retched, dimly watching as deep red blood was ejaculated from his mouth. The color reminded Harry, in a sick twist of fate, of Voldemort's antipathy for him. The eyes of the same incarnadine hue twinkled madly in a perverted manifestation of Dumbledore's wont. Voldemort then gave a wicked laugh, and Harry's stomach flip-flopped again as he realized the Dark Lord thought his ordeal humorous. A growl to belie Harry's current state slipped from his lips as stealthily as the blood had.

Voldemort's mirth was suddenly cut off by the appearance of his minions. In a whirling of cloaks, masked Death Eaters appeared in _pop_!s around the two. Harry cowered into the graffitied brick, finding himself in the middle of an unthinkable err:

Praying; wishing; almost _pleading _the fates that be for Snape to be among those called. However, in the many masked servants of the Dark Lord, he did not recognize his greasy Potions master.

"Well, my dear Death Eaters. I have scrounged up a special gift for us tonight… what luck, what luck… I have found a very _vulnerable_ Harry Potter!"

Cheers rose up in a din, hands dancing in claps. Harry heard the booing; the derisive catcalling and spitting being flung his way. He grimaced. It was the Graveyard scene all over again, except this time, he was so achingly close to home; to salvation...

Where was the Order of the Phoenix when he needed them most? What good was their so-called "guarding" of him if they deserted their savior when he needed their aid most?

"We will have our fun with Potter- a high treat- and then I shall be rid of the insolent boy once and for all..." Voldemort turned to Harry, whose mind felt quite blank. Where was the bravery? The heroism he was famed for? Instead of an adrenaline rush of courage, the heart-throb found himself unable to move. He was pinned to the wall; immobile even as Voldemort's wand moved up to face him.

_Dammit, Harry Potter, do something other than stare dumbly at his wand! You're going to_ die_! _the boy's mind hollered at him. _Get up and fight! _But Harry's legs were numb, his wand was slack in his grip, and he hurt too much too care. Let death come. It was too late. The world would just have to fend for itself.

"Crucio!"

Harry's bones were instantly on fire, and he felt his wand slip and clatter on the ground. Excruciating pain gnawed at Harry's skin; a thousand white-hot knives slashed at his body.

_Let it end…surely death is less painful…_

It seemed to go on forever. Slice. Slice. Slice. Burn. Burn. Burn. Everywhere Harry had sensation; there was agony.

And then, just as soon as the burning came, it stopped. Harry opened his eyes, raucous laughter piercing his eardrums. The seeker panted in and out with labored breaths. He ached; ached everywhere. Harry knew he was teetering on the brink of death; he _had_ to be. His injuries were getting worse with each writhe Voldemort forced him into. Harry prayed for the Order, but fostered little hope in their arrival. If they didn't come soon, he was done for… but perhaps it wouldn't be too bad to die; to see Sirius.

Darkness was flaunting in again; flirting with his mind...

"Ennervate!"

Harry was forced awake by Voldemort, who smiled coldly. "No, no, Harry… we are going to have our fun first… You can sleep peacefully later, boy. I want the thorn in my side to suffer before he greets his mudblood mother."

Harry grimaced, then coughed up more blood. Was he bleeding internally on top of his wounds? With the amount of torment Harry felt, he knew it was entirely possible.

"Are you in pain, Harry?" the wintery voice asked him. "I will eliminate your pain soon; do not fret."

Green connected with red and Harry knew the end was imminent. He'd never see Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, or anyone else he loved again. Those eyes told him so, mercilessly. Voldemort's wand moved back to accost Harry.

"Let us finish what we began the night of my return, Harry Potter."

* * *

Review!

**AngelMoon Girl**


	3. Duel

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; if I did, I'd surely be in heaven!

A/N: Again, a repost! Enjoy the additions and review!

**It Ends Now**

Part 3: "Duel"

_"Let us finish what we began the night of my return, Harry Potter."_

Voldemort's nostrils dilated in excitement, and his spindly fingers danced on the wood of his wand.

"Snape, give the boy his wand. Prepare for your demise, Potter!"

A hooded Death Eater moved forward slowly. A mask secreted his entire visage, but for two slits revealing obsidian eyes. Harry immediately recognized those onyx depths, neutral in their emotion, and endeavored to make eye contact with his professor. So many questions ran through his head in an unintelligible whirl. He needed reassurance from the spy... Was the Order on their way? Soon? Was he trying to help Harry, or hinder? Unfortunately, the only way Harry could pass on his inquiries was through desperate Legilimency, but Severus Snape kept averting his face.

Snape bent down, picked up Harry's wand, and shoved it into his shaking hand. Harry tried, in a last-ditch attempt, to meet the man's eyes. In the second it took for Snape to straighten up, he stared into Harry's frightened green pupils. Harry couldn't decipher the mixture of things floating around in the Potions master's almost raven-hued orbs. The man didn't even spare one sign of recognition for him, the git! Then, their connection was lost as Snape dropped his head. He swiveled, gave the Dark Lord a bow of obeisance, then glided backwards into the crowd of Voldemort's cronies. Harry completely ignored the wand now safely tucked into his grip. He searched out Snape's erect figure, and stared imploringly into his countenance. Their eyes became affixed once more, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He was finally given the spark and slight nod of reassurance he'd been pursuing. So did that mean the Order had been contacted? Were they on their way?

A small flare of hope sprung up in Harry… he must try to survive… and was that a tiny allusion of fear hiding in Snape's ebony orbs? Harry had no more time to ponder as Voldemort hissed:

"Let us duel, Potter. Get up, _now_."

Harry had no choice; he inched up the wall, clutching at the mortar for support on his shaking knees.

"Avada-"

"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted instantly, swishing his wand like he wielded a whip. The brother wand flew out of its charge's skeletal hand. The skill with which Harry performed the feat was suddenly a cause for worry to his archnemesis. Harry observed, for a brief moment, Voldemort's hesitation. Then it was gone; wiped away by a sneering smile. Voldemort fixated his gaze on the boy again.

"'Expelliarmus'?" Voldemort chuckled, wordlessly charming his wand back into his hand. Harry felt his resolve and strength waning. He grappled at the wall again, hands roving the brick for a place to cling to. "A signature move for you, isn't it? Harry, that spell is for children! But it seems... I underestimated you. You have grown stronger since our last encounter; you pack more power behind your words. No matter, no matter... it will only make it all the more fun to destroy you. Let us play harder…"

Harry bit his lip. His vision blurred; were there two Voldemorts? He was losing it; he was going to black out soon. So much exhaustion was creeping into his limbs!

"Crucio!"

While Harry had been in anxious reverie, Voldemort struck again. He felt the intense, unbearable pain for the second time that night. It was like electricity shooting through his spine, bursting out white-hot everywhere. Harry screamed louder than he'd ever screamed; he could actually feel the hate coursing through the curse.

The pain stopped quicker than usual, and Harry heard other yells besides his dying ones. What was going on?

But then he knew, even through the haze in his mind, that the Order had come at last.

Black invaded Harry's eyesight again and he felt his lids fighting to close. His awareness, fatigued and dull, altercated with his brain to sink into eternal space. Oh, how he battled to stay conscious! What was going on? Chaos ensued all around; a blur of loud pandemonium. Spells and curses flew in every direction, including over Harry's head and crashing into the wall, causing large dents. Harry pushed himself across the ground, crawling and creeping like a baby as he tried to get away. Didn't anyone notice him? He coughed up more blood-

"Impedimenta!"

Harry found himself twirling through thin air and being slammed against the wall. Stars erupted in front of his eyes. Then someone was strangling him, hot breath on his face and muscled hands tight round his throat. He choked in surprise and lack of oxygen.

"Time to die, Potter," Lucius Malfoy's chilling voice growled into his face. Harry struggled- he needed help; anyone! But they were all dueling; did they even notice he was dying here?

The breath was leaving the seeker and red dots began winking at him in front of his vision. Suddenly, the pressure lifted and Lucius fell back, stupefied. Remus Lupin was running at Harry. Harry felt himself falling; crumbling to the ground and unable to hold himself up anymore. He was too weak to fight the pain...

"Harry! Harry! Are you all right? Harry! Answer me!"

But the blackness finally won and Harry did not answer. Remus' face blanked out and so did his voice, then all was dark.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for all the great reviews, but I'd love more! Tee hee :-D

Chapter four's edit to come ASAP.

**AngelMoon Girl**


	4. Rescue

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; blah blah, blah and all that good stuff.

Thank you for the reviews! I love reviews! I apologize if the chapters are too short for anyone; I promise, they get longer! I just saw Goblet of Fire in theaters and it was sooo AWESOME! My favorite Harry Potter movie yet.

This is the edited chapter 4.

**It Ends Now**

Part 4: "Rescue"

Severus Snape was in his office, pouring over papers with a snarl of distaste about his countenance. The sneer clearly growled to anyone, should they encroach upon the darkly Potions Master, that he was _not_ in a good mood, _not_ wanting to be trifled with, and _not_ wanting to be reading paperwork... plainly put in the language of normal people, 'Get out, I'm busy'. Copious amounts of greasy black hair hung in front of his eyes like a dismal curtain, blocking the coal-like orbs from view. The man looked like an overgrown bat, and the only movement his body performed was the occasional sideways darting of the head to skip to another paragraph. That is, until he twitched severely, gritting his teeth with pain-

A pain that shot up from his forearm. Snape clutched the offending spot, swearing. He stalked up, donned a set of inky robes from his closet, and pulled up his sleeve. The spy touched his tattooed and inflamed Dark Mark, laying a firm finger on the Dark Lord's insignia. He disapparated as soon as his appendage touched it.

Snape expected it to be just a normal Death Eater meeting, but oh how wrong he was! What he saw when he appeared, clad in Death Eater disguise, made his stomach lurch unpleasantly.

This was no meeting.

Severus observed Potter dorsicumbent the ground, looking as if a troll had maimed him only moments before. The fifteen year old was covered in congealing and fresh blood, and looked in a considerable amount of pain- each breath seemed to cost much effort. Snape found himself doing the unthinkable: he actually felt a small twinge of sorrow for The-Annoying-Boy-Who-Lived. That emotion was dashed seconds later; Snape told himself firmly that any... _sentiments_... about the teen's well-being were only distractions to his ultimate goal. The Potions professor shifted out of the circle of other masked Death Eaters, gliding like an undetected specter away from the throng. He drew his wand and whispered:

"Expecto Patronum."

A flash of silver streaked out of his wand and shot off into the night, animal merely a blur of speed against the indigo hued sky. Snape watched it disappear, praying his telepathically recorded message would reach the Order in time. Severus moved back into the posse of Death Eaters silently, rejoicing to see that his brief disappearance had gone unnoticed. Everyone's rapt attention was focused on Potter and the Dark Lord. Apparently, Voldemort had just finished one of his unbearably arrogant and long-winded recitations. His wand was now pointed at Harry in absolute precision.

"Crucio!"

Snape could only watch as the boy jerked and writhed around on the ground in pain, screaming. Dimly, he wondered why the boy didn't just try to block it with a counter-spell or shield. The Potions Master suddenly felt extreme gratitude for the mask covering his face. This way, the mob around him couldn't see the look of disgust and anger gracing his pallid features. How could _any _of them take pleasure in the torture of a boy; a mere child?

Then all at once, Voldemort lifted the curse and flicked his wand up with professional flare. He, along with all his members, laughed. Snape could only manage a small sneer; the mirth he should have been feigning just wouldn't come out. How could he, when Potter was being tortured? It made no matter; people weren't listening to see if he was laughing. Harry coughed up a mess of red blood, and Severus twitched. What the hell had happened? Potter was coughing up blood and unprotected, something not normally seen in the "hero of the Wizarding World". Was he _purposely_ flirting with his life in a bid for attention (_no doubt that was the answer; asinine, inane, cocky offspring of James Potter that he is_), or had something happened to his family?

All these questions and no answers.

Voldemort began talking again, and ordered Snape to bring the boy his wand. The obsidian-eyed man briefly wondered if Voldemort was only calling him out to vex Harry. Or maybe the Dark Lord thought he was flaunting Severus; giving Harry another reason for hopelessness. Whatever the reason, Snape complied and masked his face to the usual emotionlessness. He kept his eyes down and showed no recognition as he did the task. The boy, stupid as he was, would inevitably give him away with some imbecilic shout of: "Oh, Professor Snape! I knew you'd come! Is the Order on their way?" He risked a quick glance into Harry's viridian depths as he stood, maintaining a detached exterior. Inwardly, the teacher praised Harry, rather grudgingly, for his tact. At least the boy knew enough not to proclaim to the world Severus' double-agent status.

Upon walking backwards into the band of Death Eaters, Snape let the cold mask fall, only momentarily, for Potter. Then fear entered Snape as Harry's scared emeralds connected with his onyx, only for but an instant's breath. It was as if Harry's emotions had somehow permeated into him, like he'd just performed Legilimency.

If Potter and the Dark Lord were to duel, the boy would surely meet death this time, in this state...

When on earth would the Order arrive?

oOo

The Order of the Phoenix was settled around the table at Grimmauld Place, engaged in a meeting concerning the kidnapping of Ollivander the wand maker and Florean Fortesque, the ice cream shop owner. Everyone around the square bore such grim expressions that one wouldn't think the ornery visages could get any worse... which would have been a totally false assessment. A streak of silver made its way into the room- a raven, pearly white and translucent; Snape's patronus. Everyone looked up, startled, except Dumbledore who watched almost benignly as the bird fluttered up to the ceiling and perched onto a beam, swaying. Then the alabaster raven opened its mouth and Snape's silky voice issued into the room.

"The Dark Lord and his Death Eaters have Potter in an alleyway off Magnolia Crescent. Potter's sustained quite a few injuries; I'm not sure what happened. Require assistance immediately."

The voice faded away into the stunned silence and the patronus dissolved.

"Wasn't Mundungus trailing Harry?" Tonks questioned, her features sickly pale. Her hair, previously a murky brown, shifted black. Gone were the days when she'd experimented with vibrant colors; the bold hues seemed too bright for a house missing its brooding master.

"Yes," Remus Lupin answered, anger flashing in his eyes. "No doubt found another stolen cauldron deal. As if that's as important as Harry's safety!"

"This is the second time his blunder has risked Harry's life. Albus, don't you think you should reconsider his membership by now...?" Molly Weasley said darkly, equally as furious as the werewolf perched beside her. Dumbledore stood up quickly, and an urgent quiescence reigned.

"Molly, right now we have no time to discuss the fate of Mundungus Fletcher. Minerva?" he said, blue eyes devoid of twinkle or sparkle. Professor McGonagall also stood up, addressing the mage:

"Headmaster?"

"I ask you to fetch Madam Pomfrey and have her on hand here. Harry will need to be attended to as soon as we return."

McGonagall nodded and disapparated with a pop.

"Everyone apparate to Magnolia Crescent," Dumbledore ordered, and there was no question as everyone twisted in reverberating pops. The room was empty within seconds.

oOo

Screams… Harry's screams…

Voldemort was crucioing Harry and cackling madly.

Dumbledore, from the side, shot Expelliarmus at Voldemort. The curse lifted, leaving Harry panting on the ground with half-closed glazed eyes. The Order charged, meeting the Death Eaters head on in battle.

Lupin looked around, searching for Harry. He began panicking when noticing that the fifteen year old was suddenly gone from his previous spot. The werewolf spotted Lucius Malfoy the next minute, suffocating the boy and sneering balefully.

"Stupefy!" Lupin shouted. Malfoy cried out and collapsed, unconscious. Harry mirrored his captor with a similar slump as Lupin raced toward him. Anxiety took claim of Remus' countenance as he exclaimed,

"Harry! Harry! Are you alright? Harry! Answer me!"

Harry's gaze went blank as he fainted. Panicking again, Lupin gathered up Harry's limp form and moved out of the battle zone. He had to help fight, but definitely couldn't leave Harry. The werewolf was torn. He looked back at those dueling- flashes of light were flying everywhere, as if fireworks were exploding throughout the alleyway. There would certainly be some Confunding of Muggles tonight. Remus glanced to the center of the fray, where Dumbledore had snarling Voldemort locked in a binding of fire.

"Retreat!" the Dark Lord called, knowing it too risky to fight Dumbledore now. Their greater plan hadn't even been put into action yet, and here his warriors were, bound on decreasing their numbers! Already, a few of his followers lay sprawled, dead, on the pavement. With resounding snaps and pops, he and the Death Eaters disapparated. Dumbledore frowned as Voldemort slipped from his spell, unwounded. He sighed, then spotted the wavering Remus Lupin and sprinted over concernedly.

"We've got to get Harry to Headquarters. I shall inform the Dursleys of his whereabouts, then stop by the Ministry to chat briefly with the Underage Magic department... no doubt Harry performed a few defensive spells tonight," Dumbledore said quickly, wasting no time in picking up a stray soda bottle. "Stay safe."

"Portus," he then muttered. The rest of the Order members began teleporting back. Lupin touched a part of the can, shifting Harry's weight slightly. Dumbledore grasped Harry's lifeless finger and moved it to the bottle.

"One… two… three…"

Remus felt a jerk under his navel and flew forward into a whirl of light and sound. The wind whistled around him and he held Harry tighter, afraid to let go.

* * *

Thanks for all those reviews! Remember to tell me what you thought.

**AngelMoon Girl**


	5. Interrogation

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters. JK Rowling does (and god how I wish I was her!). I only own the plotline, which isn't worth a cent :-P

This is the edited chapter 5.

**It Ends Now**

Part 5: "Interrogation"

Remus Lupin dropped into the entrance hall of Grimmauld Place, wind knocked out of him and gasping for breath. He managed to keep a strong hold on Harry, despite the centrifugal force. The portkey fell with a clank onto the dusty floor of Sirius' former home, rolling away into the shadows. The noise sent very worried and flustered McGonagall and Pomfrey running.

"Dear God!" McGonagall exclaimed at the sight of the two, but mostly it was directed toward Harry. Madam Pomfrey hastened over to the boy, immediately conjuring a stretcher and magicking the limp heart-throb onto it. Then she led it floating up the stairs, moving quickly. It was burned into her nature to not linger or prattle; she'd seen far too many pass on when time was wasted. Professor McGonagall helped Lupin up. He dusted off his robes with shaking hands, watching the matron disappear with his best friend's son. A terrible fear was still clawing at his insides over Harry's health, but he managed to push it away with difficulty.

"Where are the others?" he asked in a would-be calm sort of way.

"Downstairs, in the kitchen. They'll be wanting to know how Pott... Harry is. What in Merlin's name happened, Remus?" the Transfiguration professor asked anxiously, desperate for knowledge. Her eyes flickered over to the stairwell and back, as if looking for the answer in the last place she'd seen Harry. The two began making their way slowly down into the basement kitchen.

"Voldemort (McGonagall flinched involuntarily) had Harry under the Cruciatus Curse when we got there, and thank God we arrived when we did. I don't think Harry could've held out much longer," Lupin said, giving his head a light shake and grimacing. "We went into battle and I got Lucius Malfoy away from Harry, who fell unconscious at that point. Voldemort retreated, as did the Death Eaters- dirty cowards. Dumbledore portkeyed us back after."

"How horrible," McGonagall muttered, white as cream and instinctively bringing a hand to her mouth as they reached the kitchen door. They pushed it open and it was as if a bomb went off. Flurries of questions flew at them, all about Harry and his current well-being.

"I- well he-" Remus tried to explain, but everyone's blathering overwhelmed his own.

"SILENCE! Let the man speak!" McGonagall yelled, stern professor voice in place. Everyone hushed up without delay.

"Thank you," Remus gratefully said, and as he turned to face the Order his countenance grew haggard and stressed. "I'm not sure how Harry is, but I won't lie to you- the boy didn't look too good. I'm sorry, but you'll have to wait for Madam Pomfrey. I know no more than this."

"Where's Albus?" Molly Weasley inquired, coming out with drinks for everyone. She looked unusually strained and exhausted.

"He's gone to the Dursleys to ask some questions; said he'd be back shortly," Lupin answered, taking a seat at the table. "Don't know what good that'll do. As if that snobby lot will want to talk, especially about Harry."

Mrs. Weasley sniffed angrily in accord, passing him a cup of Butterbeer. McGonagall followed suit, then politely declined the offered beverage. Molly sighed when she was done passing around the drinks.

"I have to go upstairs and inform the children of what's happened. They've all been extremely worried since word got up to them about Harry. I'd hate to make it worse, but they deserve the right to know…" she sighed once again, shaking her head and not really wanting to divulge the news. Without any more chatter, the motherly woman turned quickly and proceeded upstairs, leaving a woeful quiescence in her wake.

The clutches of shock still had all in its possession.

oOo

Professor Dumbledore made his way swiftly up Number Four, Privet Drive, bypassing the well-kept hedge and not even sparing a glance into the perfectly trimmed green lawn. Everything was in order, not a thing was out-of-place... just like the Dursleys, who thought their nephew was about as strange and abnormal as a hedgehog popping out of their flawless lawn. One little unwelcome creature could ruin the whole place, and in their opinion, Harry was just that- a stain on their normalcy.

So, it was only fitting that when the Headmaster and symbol of the Wizarding World reached the door and politely knocked, he was greeted less than cordially.

The first raps brought no Muggle to the threshold, and Dumbledore took this as no surprise given the late hour. He knew though, that if no one answered he would be forced to enter, regardless of all formalities. This was urgent.

The white bearded mage knocked pronouncedly once more. This time the door creaked open, and Petunia Dursley's pinched face popped into view, eyes narrowed.

"Hello, Petunia. I expect you're well?"

Eyes popping with recognition, Petunia made to close the door. Dumbledore stuck his foot in, halting it from snapping in his face.

"I deeply apologize, but I have a very pressing matter to discuss with you and your husband, assuming you'll be ready to answer some questions," he said, most apologetically. "If you would kindly let me in...? It is unwise to linger in doorways during these troubled times." Petunia's eyes darted to the wand sticking out of Dumbledore's pocket, then stuttered:

"C-come in."

The tall Headmaster smartly stepped over the threshold and with a click, shut the door behind him. Petunia scurried over to the living room entrance just as large, beefy Vernon Dursley trudged out.

"What the ruddy hell is this? Petunia, what is this crackpot doing in our house? How dare you enter here, man!" Vernon exclaimed angrily, mustache aquiver and eyes popping madly. Dumbledore merely gave a polite and benign smile, placid as a calm, summer's night.

"Ah, Vernon Dursley," he said, choosing to ignore the outburst. He nodded his head in greeting. If possible, Vernon's face purpled more, and the vein in his temple twitched as it teetered near danger point.

"What the _devil_ are you doing in my house?" he asked in a deathly whisper full of unseen malice. Dumbledore took a step foward. "You... you... _abnormality_!" He spat out the word like a swear.

"I have a few questions concerning Harry that I wish to address with you. Firstly, I should like to bring to your attention a question: do you, or do you not, know where Harry is at the present moment?"

"Sleeping, like Dudders," Petunia answered automatically.

"Ah. I see we have reached the point of misconception," Dumbledore fingered delicately.

"Misconception?" Petunia stumbled.

"What a fool!" Vernon suddenly burst out. He began marching up the stairs. "POTTER! POTTER! GET DOWN HERE, BOY!" Dumbledore's gaze chilled slightly, eyes becoming a quiet winter fire in anger. His demeanor and posture, however, retained the same composure.

The unmistakable sound of Vernon flinging open a door and his unfinished "Pot-" proved Dumbledore's point. The large man came thundering down the stairs.

"Where the bloody hell has he gone?" he asked. "Have you freaks taken him?"

"Harry has been transferred to the Order of the Phoenix headquarters with a few sustained injuries. What _I _would like to know is, where is _your_ son?"

Petunia's "Why?" was cut off by her husband's rambling.

"The Order of the what's-its-name?"

Dumbledore didn't answer as Dudley Dursley came sleepily staggering down the stairs. His eyes were bloodshot; an occurence that could have been passed off as insomnia. The elder and wiser of the quartet, however, knew better.

"Mum? Dad? What's going on?"

Then, the boy noticed in fear the wizard Headmaster. His hands twitched slightly, probably dying to clamp themselves over his buttocks, but he managed to keep them front and center. A sheen of sweat began sparkling off his pink face and the boy had an air of grogginess and disorientation about him. Dumbledore immediately noticed all these things, and he could Sense the fear radiating off Harry's cousin's body like heat.

"Hello, Dudley. I am Professor Dumbledore. I was wondering if, perhaps, you knew how Harry became injured?"

A scared expression flickered over Dudley's face, and for a moment it looked as if his brain was on haywire. His mouth moved silently, trying to form words. Finally, he managed to choke a few out.

"N-no c-c-clue, sir," Dudley squeaked, gulping. The whole time he stuttered, Dumbledore wasn't paying any attention whatsoever. Instead, he was focusing on gazing intently into Dudley's porkish blue eyes, penetrating through the layers of his mind in search of veracity with skillful Legilimency. Where was it?

At last, Dumbledore found the truth, locked away in the recesses of Dudley's mind as if the teen was trying to forget it. He saw the whole scene played out, and upon seeing such gore and evil done unto his young charge, felt his heart being squeezed by an invisible hand. Dumbledore broke eye contact, face never changing or showing emotion. He inclined his head politely.

"That's fine. I must go. Harry will not be returning, I'm afraid," Dumbledore intoned briskily. A twinge of sadness filled him as he saw the looks of glee, happiness, and relief upon the Dursleys' faces. Didn't they even care at least a _little_ for Harry? Had he been completely wrong in his assumptions that they fostered perchance a little love for his student deep inside... didn't _Petunia_...?

"What about the boy's things; what's to be done with them?" Vernon inquired, with a tone similar to one asking where the rat's eviscerates were to be dumped. Dumbledore flicked his wand casually, transporting the luggage ahead to Grimmauld Place.

"Taken care of," he answered. He sighed; at least Harry would be loved now, in a nurturing environment.

_Oh, Harry, I never knew..._

"Farewell," the old wizard said in a somber tone. He turned on his heel, intricate robes swishing out behind him as he apparated away.

* * *

A/N: I hope you liked this section, and hopefully it suited people's wishes for longer chapters! Please review!

For all who clamor to know more, the next chapter is called "Nightmare", but that's all I'll say for now!

**AngelMoon Girl**


	6. Nightmare

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters; JK Rowling and Warner Bros do. My story is only the miniscule work of an amateur!

Edited chapter 6.

**It Ends Now**

Part 6: "Nightmare"

It was chaos when Dumbledore returned to Grimmauld Place; everyone was crowded around him, desperately clamoring for more information in their ignorance.

"Quiet, please," Dumbledore called out, holding out his wand as it fizzled gold sparks out the end. Everyone fell silent. An unnerving feeling was upon all; Dumbledore looked especially grim, which was never a good sign.

"I have found the cause of Harry's injuries, but I'm afraid it's worse than I originally expected," the headmaster began somberly, eyes lacking the sparkle they normally contained. "Unfortunately, the truth was not what we all originally assumed. Most of the damage inflicted on Harry was not Voldemort's doing."

"Not the Dursleys; surely not," Mrs. Weasley inquired, back from upstairs. Ron, Hermione (who was there for the rest of the summer), the twins, and Ginny had not taken the news well. All had been pushing Mrs. Weasley to be able to see Harry, but she had flatly refused in a chastising tone.

Dumbledore looked around the room sadly. All eyes were glued to him, waiting for the response. It broke his heart to say the words aloud, and see the horrified expressions of those who'd been ignorant about how horrible Harry's life had been.

"I'm afraid Molly has it correct. Harry will not be returning to the Dursleys," he replied regretfully, at last.

"Who was it, Albus? Who did it? Was it Vernon Dursley?" Lupin asked in a sickly voice. "If it was, I swear I'll..." His words trailed off into nothingness; apparently he was so disgusted he could barely speak.

"It was Harry's cousin," Dumbledore answered, a touch of anger evident in his orbs; barely readable. Lupin scowled in his own fury, unable to mask his feelings as well as the old mage.

"Where is Harry going to stay?" Mrs. Weasley asked timidly, as if trying to broach a subject. Dumbledore was quick on the uptake, omniscience kicking in once again.

"That remains to be seen, but I'm sure Harry will be able to stay at the Burrow, given proper protection," he answered kindly with a smile. Mrs. Weasley beamed, face aglow. A sudden knock on the door permeated the room, and it was opened to reveal Madam Pomfrey. She made her way in, face paler than usual.

"Ah, Poppy! How is young Harry?" Dumbledore asked immediately. His tone was brisk and full of concern.

"Better than when he arrived, Headmaster, but the boy is going to need plenty of _rest_," she replied, stressing the word that seemed to be an obsession of hers. "No walking around or anything else of that matter for a few days yet, I'm afraid."

"And his injuries?"

"Extensive, but not unhealable. I did the best I could, but some of the more severe lesions will take time. No strenuous activity for a week or so, my suggestion," Pomfrey said, eyes scanning the room reproachfully as if _daring_ them to let Harry go do such things as Quidditch, or even set one foot outside. "Potter also suffered much blood loss, which I gave him some Blood Replenishing Potion for."

"What were the injuries?" McGonagall asked in an unusually hushed and strained voice, as if something were lodged within her throat.

"Three ribs snapped clean, a broken nose, various lacerations, a minor concussion, and a little Cruciatus damage to the nerves- all fixable but as I said and will repeat, Potter needs to have a few days' bedrest to regain strength."

The nurse's eyes softened. "It's a wonder he remained cogent through most of his altercation with You-Know-Who. But Harry's a strong boy; he's hanging in there and he will be okay; don't worry."

"When can... we see him?" Mrs. Weasley asked hesitantly.

"Tomorrow; Mr. Potter needs sleep right now. He's been through a lot. I will, however, permit the Headmaster in for a short time," the motherly matron said, nodding to the snow-sprinkled bearded one. Dumbledore returned the gesture, then swept out behind Pomfrey.

"Has Harry woken up yet?" he asked, following closely behind the school nurse as they ascended the staircase.

"No, Headmaster, but I assure you he should shortly... here we are. Only for a short time though!" she warned sternly, opening the door for Dumbledore. He chuckled mildly at her crossness. Madam Pomfrey shut the door gently behind him, then bustled back down the stairs.

Dumbledore moved forward toward the skinny, black-haired boy peacefully asleep in the bed. His charge was covered with a heavy blanket for warmth, and hidden though he was beneath the layers, the malnourishment still showed. Sirius' death definitely seemed to be taking its toll. Harry had dark bags under his eyes; a definite sign that lack of sleep and possibly nightmares as well were plaguing Harry's night hours.

Dumbledore sighed- so much for a mere boy of fifteen to endure! The headmaster brushed away Harry's bangs in a fatherly and loving way, revealing the lightning-bolt scar.

"So much pain, my child," Dumbledore murmured. He pulled up a chair and sat down at the boy's bedside. Then he grasped Harry's hand and gave it a slight squeeze, as if to reassure him of his presence. It was so chilled!

"Dearest Harry, wake up soon. So many people who love you more than you know are very worried for your sake. Come back to us, dear boy," the old wizard pleaded gently. How he adored Harry, even if their professor-pupil status restrained Dumbledore from showing too much favoritism. He felt so close to this child with the past so similar to his own... as if Harry was his own son! Dumbledore felt he would do anything for Harry's happiness and well-being. It pained him to think that Harry's life was even more endangered than his own, and that people wanted death brought to this boy.

Why was the world so cruel?

oOo

_Darkness surrounded him, like an abyss of pure nothingness. But even through all the blackness, Harry sensed a warm presence nearby, like soft sunlight. It called to him and he could feel love emanating from its being. But, the luminesence seemed too far away to reach out to... _

_How he so wanted to go to it!_

_But something... someone... was preventing him! Why couldn't he move his feet in that direction?_

_'Harry, Harry!' a voice echoed, resounding through his eardrums. It wasn't a pleasant voice; Harry didn't like it... he tried to shy away from the baritone insistently calling his name._

_'Who's there?' he cried out in response, looking around and seeing no one. Only that night-like scenery filled everything._

_'Come to me, Harry.' _

_Harry's scar seared once, quick and painful._

_'Augh... no!' Harry shouted back, clapping a hand to his forehead. 'Never!'_

_Harry knew who it was even without hearing the cold, ringing laugh that followed his refusal._

_'You won't escape me now, Potter. This is my world; I control you here!' _

_Two merciless red eyes appeared out of the darkness, glowing in hateful intensity. Harry tried to inch away but found the rest of his body unresponsive._

_'Get out of here, Voldemort!' Harry exclaimed. 'You're wrong; this is _my _mind!' His scar began to throb terribly in reply._

_'Oh, then I suppose it's half yours and half mine, isn't it? I sense your sadness and longing, boy. You miss that mutt Godfather of yours, and your mudblood mother and treacherous father. You blame yourself for their deaths, don't you, Harry?' _

_The darkness was beginning to envelop Harry, swirling closer and closer around his heart, trying to push in the hate, anger, and guilt. Harry fought desperately not to give in, but it was so hard! The voice of Voldemort continued, sensing a weak point._

_'They blame you too.' _

_Three figures materialized, wearing bloodied rags with sunken faces and eyes. James Potter, Lily Potter, and Sirius Black looked at Harry in utmost accusation._

_'It's your fault,' they chanted in unison. James and Lily moved foward. It was Lily's eyes- Harry's own- that hit Harry the hardest. The blame; the hate... in his own mother's orbs... it was too much!_

_'So horrible, Harry... you're so horrible... It's because of you we died; you know it was your fault! We didn't have to die... Why did we have to have such a child? You disgust us!'_

_'If it weren't for you, the Potter name would still hold its honor!' James cried. He wrapped his skinny arm around Lily, pulling her close and distancing his son in the process. 'Lily, we should have killed him when we had the chance; aborted him when he was still in the womb... Then we'd still be alive...'_

_Harry shook his head, eyes wide and disbelieving even as his heart began to pitch over in sorrow and self-disgust._

_'No...no...' he moaned. 'It's not true...' _

_Sirius moved foward next, eyes burning in an incomprehensible hatred._

_'Why did you have to believe that stupid vision, Harry? I thought you were smarter than that! You have to be so noble all the time... well, it got me killed, didn't it! I'm your godfather; isn't that worth anything? Hermione's right, you have a saving-people-thing.' _

_Sirus gave a cruel scowl and turned his back on Harry, seemingly unable to face him for anger and shame. Harry's heart pounded and he felt as if someone had just given him a slap across the cheek. Tears welled up unbidden in his emerald eyes._

_'No...' he gasped out, trying to back away but unable to. 'NO!' _

_He was stained; dirty- innocent blood was sprinkled upon his hands..._

_'I'm sorry...' he moaned as the three people faded away, all turning their backs on him. 'Forgive me...' _

_The tall figure of Voldemort appeared in front of Harry, who felt a sudden sense of vulnerability as he looked into his enemy's face. Voldemort smiled with cruel satisfaction, raising his wand. Harry didn't have his; he was totally unprotected. He looked away._

_'Had enough yet, Potter? Ready to give up your miserable life? I will destroy you sooner or later, but for now I am content to torturing you in this place, where escape is futile. Our bond is stronger than ever, Harry... CRUCIO!' _

_Harry collapsed, screaming in pain. It was unbelievably real and consuming. He twitched, moaned, and cried out, falling onto the black ground below him. _

_'God, let it end, let it end!' Harry pleaded in his head. _

_But a little voice in his mind told him he deserved it..._

oOo

Dumbledore rose from his chair, vanishing it with a wave of his wand and preparing to leave. He had his hand on the door handle when Harry gave a low moan from behind him. The mage turned around quickly.

"Harry...?"

Harry's face was twisted in sadness and tears were leaking out from under his lids.

"No... It's not my fault...please..." He gave another low groan and began rolling around fitfully. A few strides later and Dumbledore had come back to Harry's side.

"Harry?"

The aforementioned ebony-head had begun to gasp and breath quicker, pale and sweaty. He twitched unpleasantly as if caught in the clutches of a bad nightmare. Reacting quickly, Dumbledore began lightly shaking the boy.

"Harry, wake up! Harry!"

Harry didn't respond but cried out, clutching his forehead. Dumbledore grasped Harry's hands and pulled them away, letting out a small gasp as he did so. A small trickle of blood escaped out of the old scar, which was fresh and open as the day the old Headmaster first saw it.

How could this be?

Harry began jerking spasmodically, letting out another cry as if in pain or seeing something particularily unpleasant. Dumbledore released Harry's hand and swiftly pulled out his wand. He pointed it at the boy.

"Ennervate!"

A flash of red hit Harry, but the reviving charm had no effect whatsoever. Dumbledore was in shock; truely stumped. Had Voldemort locked Harry away in his own mind? Would the boy be unable to awaken? Fear gripped the old man's heart. Not Harry, not his precious Harry!

Suddenly, Harry let out a heart-wrenching scream. It progressed louder and louder, the boy clawing at his scar all the while, seemingly trying to make the pain stop. He twitched and jerked, then pulled his knees up to his chest in the fetal position. More blood seeped its way through the scar. Footsteps sounded loudly, then the door flew open and Madam Pomfrey, Professor McGonagall, Remus Lupin, and Molly Weasley flew into the room.

"Headmaster?" Pomfrey exclaimed, eyes wide and staring at the wailing Harry. McGonagall had her hands clamped tightly over her mouth. Dumbledore strode over to them.

"I'm afraid Harry is trapped in his dreams through Voldemort and his' connection. It's grown stronger since Voldemort's return. I've tried ennervating the boy but it's no use," Dumbledore explained, a small edge of panic betrayed in his crystalline blue eyes. There was a chance Harry could be trapped for good.

"Albus..." McGonagall said fearfully, moving forward and touching Harry's bleeding forehead. All also went to the boy's side. Dumbledore nodded at the Transfiguration teacher, as if saying he had a hunch. McGonagall and Pomfrey tried staunching the blood whilst Mrs. Weasley attempted to comfort the boy.

Dumbledore and Lupin were above Harry, swishing their wands in complicated spells to try to awaken him. For a minute or two, nothing changed, but suddenly Harry's yells began to quiet and his rolling grew less.

Then, quite suddenly, Harry's eyes flew open and he began to draw in deep breaths, as if having been underwater. He sat up, not taking in any of his surroundings. With a low moan, he moved his hand up to his forehead, then brought it down again with a gasp after noticing the red blotch upon it.

That was when he noticed five aghast people crowded around his bed, staring at him with the same turpid and frightened visages he imagined on his own countenance.

* * *

Review review review!

**AngelMoon Girl**


	7. Healing

A/N: Thanks for the great reviews! It really is motivating to read such good comments. I thank everyone who does with deepest gratitude- I save all my reviews to read over and over! (I'm a review fanatic). Keep them coming! I apologize if this chapter is a bit too mushy for anyone, but I'm trying to have Harry and Dumbledore have a really good relationship- it will come up in the end (wink wink). I also am sorry for the wait, but this took a while considering its length! I'm still not an experienced writer; this is going to be the longest story I've ever written!

Disclaimer: I should hope by now you know I don't own Harry Potter. If you did, I would be a mixture of scared and freaked that you think I'm that good (and wondering if your sanity is intact, as well as why you'd be on this site cause you'd obviously know nothing about Harry Potter!) LOL!

Update: This is the edited chapter 7.

**It Ends Now**

Part 7: "Healing"

"Harry, are you alright?" Professor Dumbledore asked immediately, eyes blazing soliticiously. He traced Harry's scar with a nonplussed expression. How strange. It was suddenly as sealed as it always was, albeit stood out because of the boy's pale complexion. Harry winced at the contact, hissing in a slight breath- it still stung. Dumbledore noticed right away and drew back his hand. Harry looked around at the faces surrounding him, blushing and embarrassed at having so many people pressed around him... the fact that their quietly astonished attention was focused solely on him didn't help matters either. It made him feel as if he were being searched and probed with spotlights or something; it was a very uncomfortable feeling, and Harry found himself wondering what they were thinking about.

The fifteen year old drew himself out of his own thoughts and moved on to the most pressing issue.

"Why is...my scar bleeding?" Harry questioned hesitantly, gingerly fingering his famous mark with trepidation. "And, um, where am I, sir?"

"Grimmauld Place, Harry. As to your scar, that's what we're trying to figure out... was it a vision, Harry?" Dumbledore returned. Harry's eyes glazed over as the memories of the dream came rushing back in full detail. To top it off, finding himself once more in Grimmauld Place- _Oh_ _Sirius_!- only served to heighten Harry's conflicted feelings.

"S-sort of. M-more like a nightmare." A lump rose up unbidden in his throat, but Harry defiantly held the tears back. He hated showing weakness, especially in front of his stoic _teachers_ of all people! Harry looked down at his hands clutching the bedsheets in a tight grip, then squeezed his eyes closed to block out the howl of grief. All observed him with sympathy, realizing at once what Harry was attempting to quelch. A couple briefly considered leaving to give the boy some space, but then Professor McGonagall moved forward. Lightly, she put her hand over Harry's in a rarely seen act of compassion.

"We all need to let our feelings out sometimes, Harry. Trust me- the more you withhold grief, the worse it becomes," she whispered soothingly, in what Harry classified as a motherly way. He noticed the use of his first name, too. It made his eyes burn even more, to know that she was willing to share the soft side most people never saw in full. He could already envision what her true message was... _It's okay to cry, Harry_... but didn't they understand? If he let himself go, like he so desperately wanted to, then the tears would never stop! McGonagall sighed, squeezing his hand once very tightly, then stood up. She watched his inner struggle, overcome with sympathy for the poor boy who'd somehow crept into her heart to become one of the Gryffindor Head's favorites. It was so unfair that he had to suffer so much pain and burden; that he couldn't be a normal teenager his own age! Not even two months after Sirius' death, and now Harry was forced to deal with an attack by Voldemort and his cousin on top of it!

"No one would blame you for wanting to cry, Harry. You deserved better. You always have," she whispered mournfully, and it appeared this genuinity was the bludger that broke the dam.

A quiet, choked sob came out of the boy. Then another. And another. Harry let go of the blankets and put a hand over his mouth, eyes wide. An even louder sob followed. _Dammit all_! He felt Mrs. Weasley pull him into an embrace, shielding him from the others. Hands stroked him, trying to placate, but it was all a blur. Before the teen knew it, he was all-out crying, driven by his unbearable sadness... the tears just wouldn't obey his wishes any longer, and Harry forgot he was with his teachers, forgot he was even in Grimmauld- he was in an unknown vortex, riding wave upon wave of painful sorrow, guilt, and loss. If he had died, or if he was still alive, Harry didn't know. All he knew was that finally, he was letting out his loss and pain, giving in to his true feelings. He cried for his mother, father, Cedric... all the people he couldn't in living memory recall expressing true grief over... But most of all, he cried for Sirius. He cried for the man who'd slipped from his fingers just as they were about to embark on a future together. For the one who through it all, stuck with Harry. Even if it meant death, and on account of the godson he so loved. Harry's howling escalated. _All my fault_...

McGonagall's eyes softened drastically as Harry began crying with dry, wracked sobs that shook his whole, frail frame. Molly Weasley gathered Harry into her warm arms, rocking him gently. Dumbledore's gaze softened as well, and with clear love he smoothed down Harry's unruly dark hair in a small act of assuagement. McGonagall leaned forward and chose to stroke his cheek with a little uncertainty, unsure how to treat her student without totally breaking all professional etiquette.

Pomfrey settled for clicking her tongue and checking the boy's injuries, trying to hide her ornery grimace from the poor child. She wished there were a potion that could ease such deep-seated pain... Professor Lupin, on her other side, grasped Harry's shoulder in a comforting way. He knew how Harry must feel; he himself had been having to deal with this painful loss. Sirius had been one of his best friends; one of the few people who had accepted him despite the fact that he was a werewolf. The haggard wizard was trying to come to terms with the fact that he was the last marauder left, no longer counting the traitor Wormtail as one.

They remained this way for what seemed an eternity, until discovering that Harry had cried himself to sleep. Molly eased his limp form back under the covers and then tucked him in. A wistful smile sent her wondering how long it had been since someone had done that for him- fourteen years? Fifteen? She doubted the Dursleys ever did, even when he was a baby. Her visage shifted menacingly. If she ever got her hands, or rather her _wand_, anywhere near those awful Muggles... oh, then there'd be hell to pay! After Mrs. Weasley had finished patting down the blankets unnecessarily, they all left the room silently. Harry slept on for a long time, free of any more bad dreams, guilt, and the seemingly eternal pursuit of death and woe.

That is, of course, until Ron and Hermione had been allowed in.

The next thing Harry knew, he was being suffocated by a girl with bushy hair. He peered around her brown locks, grinning at a tall boy with red hair and freckles, trademarks of a Weasley. This boy looked on with a mixture of humor, exasperation, and worry.

"Hermione, get off Harry before you strangle him!" he admonished, sounding sincere yet smirking. Obvious relief that Harry was okay reverberated strongly in his voice. Hermione, teary-faced, released Harry from her bear hug.

"Oh Harry, you're alright, we were all _so _worried!" the girl choked out, smiling and wiping away another flow of happy tears.

"Jeez, stop your wailing already! That's all you and Ginny did the whole time!" Ron said to Hermione, scowling. He turned back to Harry confidently. "It was terrible, Harry- just bloody annoying! I knew you'd be alright, but they didn't want to listen to reason..." Then his face let in a little vulnerability as his tone went darkly serious. "You gave everyone a real scare, mate."

"Sorry, next time I'll tell Voldemort to go easy on me," Harry joked lightly, trying to liven up the mood. Ron gave a small, humorless laugh whilst Hermione gave Harry a look that reminded the fifteen year old of McGonagall in her telling-off mood.

"Harry..." she began tersely, but Harry cut her off with a shake of the head.

"Look Hermione, I'm fine, really!"

The brunette pursed her lips together in an Aunt Petunia-ish way, ceasing her rant but only reluctantly.

"Say Ron, speaking of Ginny, where is she?" Harry inquired eagerly. He envisioned her lively ginger locks and playful smile, and wondered if maybe she'd come to visit him when he was unconscious.

"Ron's mum wouldn't let her or the twins in yet. She said we could see you first," Hermione answered before Ron had said a word.

"Threw a right fit, Ginny did!" Ron continued. "Lots of colorful words she let slip too. Mum wasn't all that pleased after." Harry chuckled; he could just imagine the youngest Weasley yelling profanity that would make even the twins proud at her mother.

"Anything happen while I was gone? I mean, like with Voldemort?"

Ron shivered. "Wish you wouldn't always insist on saying his name, Harry. It's not that hard to say 'You-Know-Who'."

Harry ignored him and Hermione scoffed, rolling her eyes and giving Ron a push. "Get OVER it already! It's not hard to say his real name, either!"

Ron just shrugged in reply. "You're a muggle-born, 'Mione. You haven't grown up hearing all the horrible stories of what it was like the first time around."

"And I'm the better for it," she returned smugly. "At least I don't look like I'm going to pee my pants every time I hear 'Voldemort'."

Ron hissed in a breath but swallowed his retort at the warning look Harry bestowed on the two.

"Continue?" the seeker prompted impatiently, rolling his viridian eyes towards the ceiling.

"Anyway Harry, we heard the Order talking about how (Ron paused, sucking in a breath) _Voldemort_'s seiges and conquests are becoming more numerous and pronounced- everyone knows he's back now, and I suppose doing that invokes fear in people. Lots of muggles have fallen prey to their trickery, and the Death Eaters torture them for fun all the time."

"It's so horrible!" Hermione burst in, fierce anger shining clearly in her eyes. Ron nodded his agreement.

"I know, 'Mione. But that's not all," Ron said to Harry, frowning.

"Not all?" Harry repeated, feeling as if a dead weight had settled in the pit of his stomach. Ron shook his head. Part of Harry _wanted_ to be ignorant of what was to come next, and it was that part that wanted to be shielded away from this sort of stuff. Each death seemed to bring even more pressure on Harry, always reminding him of his burden that he was the one destined to save the world. Everyone's fate rested on his shoulders; it was a horrible millstone to bear.

"I heard Dad say Florean Fortescue was killed a few hours ago. Body found in some Muggle dumpster in London. You remember he was the ice cream man in Diagon Alley?" Harry replied yes, how could he forget? That man, bless his soul, used to give Harry free ice cream. Ron continued on; there was more misfortune.

"He also said how Ollivander the wandmaker was dragged off. No one knows what happened, his place is just deserted, torn to shambles. I reckon he was killed too. Ollivander was a good man," Ron finished, bowing his red head in remembrance. Hermione gave a great sniff, eyes glistening. Harry too mourned their losses- it felt as if he had just seen them yesterday, his memory was so clear! He would always remember their kindness to him...

Harry looked back and forth between his friend's faces, as if telepathically asking if there was any more news.

"That's all we know for now, mate. Mum won't even let us _near_ the kitchen when a meeting's in session," Ron responded. "Extendable Ears rarely work anymore." Harry leaned back against his pillow, a sudden feeling of weariness and fatigue entering him. He gave a large yawn as sleep tried to overcome his senses. Hermione ushered Ron out, following behind the boy and closing the door. Ron's last smart-aleck comment floated back up to Harry, drifting underneath the door.

"Seriously Hermione, you remind me of a mixture of Mum and Madam Pomfrey, all at the same time- it's scary, really," his voice said teasingly. Hermione clucked, and Harry laughed softly, listening to their fading footsteps. And with Ron's last words echoing in his brain, he fell back onto the pillow and was soon sound asleep.

It was the first night in a while that he did not dream of anything unpleasant.

oOo

Harry spent the next few days trapped in bed. He felt restless, and kept getting strong urges to climb out of bed and go downstairs. He felt absolutely fine, except for some sore joints, as he regularly told stubborn Madam Pomfrey. Apparently, even a mere cramp was bad news in that nurse's world. From his bed, Harry could see out the window and into the light blue sky above, clouds drifting by lazily as if smeared like paint onto the heavens. The sunlight always danced on the floor in mirages, shifting as the day went by. Sounds of the Weasleys playing Quidditch always reached his ears through the open window, making his yearning even stronger.

Ginny and the twins had come to visit him the day after Ron and Hermione did. Mostly, they talked about Fred and George's new business, _Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes_. Business was booming, and they had bought Ron new robes and the rest of the family other much needed supplies, for once not secondhand. At the moment the two were on family leave, due back at the shop in a few day's time.

oOo

On the last day of Harry's bedrest, Ron and Hermione came to visit, bounding up the stairs amidst Mrs. Weasley's cries of "Slow down!" and "Don't wake Mrs. Black's portrait or I'll hex you into Seventh Year!" The two rushed into the room, panting and holding a letter each. Hermione passed one to Harry.

"O.W.L. results! Just arrived!" she informed breathlessly, an edge of nervousness in her voice. Harry looked down at his with slightly trembling fingers, beginning to feel like Hermione must. It was addressed:

_Mr. Harry Potter_

_The Burrow_

_Ottery St. Catchpole_

_Britain_

He fumbled a moment, finally managing to open the envelope. A parchment fell out onto Harry's lap, and he picked it up. After reading it through a few times for comprehension's sake, Harry sighed a breath of relief. His grades were thus:

Astronomy: A

Care of Magical Creatures: E

Charms: E

Defense Against the Dark Arts: O

Divination: D

Herbology: E

History of Magic: P

Potions: O

Transfiguration: E

A small beacon of hope flared up in Harry's chest. So far, his dreams of becoming an auror were going well. With an O in Potions, he could continue on in the N.E.W.T. of that class! Harry'd had an inkling that he had done well in his Potions O.W.L. Without Snape breathing over his shoulder and constantly berating him for every fault he made, Harry was a pretty adept Potions brewer. _Wish I could've seen the ol' bat's face when he read_ this _grade report!_ The only downside Harry could find in his results was that he would have yet another year with Snape. The rest of his grades were excellent, aside from Divination (he was always going to fail that one) and History of Magic (a boring class- besides, how could he have gotten any better, considering he collapsed halfway through the exam?).

The teen was drawn back to reality with Hermione telling him to swap. He glanced down hers, already knowing... yep, all Outstandings and one Exceeds Expectations in Defense Against the Dark Arts. What else from the cleverest witch of their age?

"Good job! You were always going to be best at Defense Against the Dark Arts," Hermione complimented after reading Harry's paper. Ron stole a glance at Harry's.

"Great, mate! Ruddy good in Potions, you did. But you have to pay for that with another year of Snape!" Ron had a good laugh at that.

"At _least_ I'll have Hermione there," Harry sighed, trying to remain on the optimistic side. It was getting harder the more he thought about it. Nor did it help that Snape's idiosyncratic sneer kept sliding unbidden through his thoughts, with a loathing so far only Voldemort had been able to top.

Ron presented his next, grades being the same as Harry's but without the Outstandings. He had scraped an A in Potions and an E in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Ron chuckled again.

"Hey, we're N.E.W.T. students now!"

Mrs. Weasley came in, congratulating them all on their success.

"Your supply lists arrived too; I'll be leaving tomorrow for Diagon Alley to get everything," she said. Her bright gaze swiveled over to Harry.

"How are you, dear? Better?"

"Much better, thank you," Harry answered politely.

"Oh!" The motherly woman dug around in her pockets. "This came with your letter, Harry." She pulled out a small something and pushed it into Harry's hand, immediately after giving him a hug with a mischievious smile on her face. Then she rose up and went away with a wink. Harry looked down into his hand- he held a red and gold badge, the letters 'QC' intwined upon it. Ron gave a choke.

"Harry! You've been made Quidditch Captain!"

"Wha-?" was all Harry managed, eyes wide and holding the crest as if it were a prized treasure.

"Charlie used to have one of those when he was Captain... congratulations! I could help you if you want, if you let me back on the team, ha ha," Ron said, breaking through some sort of joyous fog in Harry's brain. He mentally cheered at what was probably Dumbledore and McGonagall's combined decision.

"Yah, you could be like my assistant or something!" Harry returned. They schemed on until Mrs. Weasley came back, acting very much like Hermione had as she shooed them away from Harry.

"This boy is finishing his BEDREST!" she exclaimed Madam Pomfrey-ishly as Ron gave a particularly loud groan.

oOo

That night found Harry staring listlessly out the window as he had most of the summer nights. It seemed like forever since the attack and that night when he had sat upon his bed on Privet Drive, doing the same thing as now. Hermione had informed him of what Dumbledore had said- that he wouldn't be returning to Privet Drive. Part of him was elated, but another was sad, wistful, and Harry had no clue why. Perhaps it was his subconscious, whispering of his unbidden wish to just be _loved_, like any other kid. He couldn't remember how many times in his childhood cupboard that he'd dreamed of Aunt Petunia hugging him, or Uncle Vernon ruffling his hair like he did with Dudley...

It made Harry want to laugh.

That, or cry. He couldn't decide which. But Harry rather thought he'd wailed like a baby once too many, and swore he wouldn't tear up for quite a long time, if he could help it. Regardless of McGonagall and Mrs. Weasley, he wasn't going to become a whiny, sentimental little child. He was fifteen going on sixteen, for Merlin's sake!

Harry's thoughts soon turned to Sirius at recalling his hysterics episode, and the night he had suggested Harry could live with him. Now that dream would remain just that. A dream. Harry frowned and looked out at the half moon, feeling a sense of deja-vu. Then, with a jolt, Harry realized that the night looked uncannily similar to the one when he had first seen Sirius, right before boarding the Knight Bus. The boy sighed, fingering his Quidditch Captain badge and wondering what Sirius would have said if he had seen it. He so wished to hear words of praise and pride coming out of his godfather's mouth once more.

There was a soft knock on the door.

"Come in," Harry called, not looking away from the night sky. The door creaked open and Harry finally tore away his gaze to rest it instead upon the visitor. It was Professor Dumbledore, framed in the doorway and surrounded in an aura of moonlight that poured in. His white beard almost glowed in the dark, and the silver fabric of his robes only enhanced the celestial image. The man looked unearthly, like someone out of a dream.

"Good evening, Harry," the Headmaster greeted in his deep baritone, striding into the room.

"Good evening, sir," Harry replied, wondering what this visit was all about. Dumbledore flicked his wand, conjuring up a chintz chair and seating himself down on it. Harry sat up straighter. The old man was silent for a minute, seeming to collect his thoughts.

"How are you?" he finally said.

Harry tried to find the right words. He was vaguely perplexed; where was this conversation leading?

"Er...I'm fine, Professor," he said in a decisive tone. Dumbledore chuckled mildly.

"You forget I am a professed Occlumens, child." Harry looked down, expression unreadable. "What's wrong?"

Harry struggled to say what he felt; it was uncommon for him to do such a thing.

"I...miss him," Harry muttered, and Dumbledore didn't have to ask who he meant.

"We all do."

Harry took a deep breath; he needed to get this off his chest or it would surely suffocate him. "I feel like it's my fault. Professor, on my first night here I dreamed that Voldemort trapped me in my head. He made my Mum, Dad, and Sirius appear and blame me for their deaths. They said such horrible things, but I feel like their words were veritable. I can't help but feel I had some cause in their deaths; that without me, they'd still be alive!"

Dumbledore's chair creaked as he moved off it, instead kneeling on the floor at Harry's side. He took Harry's hands into his own warm ones, looking up at him with what one would decipher as almost a pleading demeanor.

"Harry, I want you to look at me now," he said kindly. Harry, who had been determinedly looking away after this revelation, reluctantly locked eyes with the Headmaster. He was a little unnerved at the intensity his Professor's cerulean orbs held.

"What you say is entirely prevarication. They are the words of the sadness and guilt welling up from your soul, trying to cajole you into depression. Sirius, your mother, and father made their _own _decisions, in which you had nothing to do with. To protect you was their _choice_. You had absolutely nothing to do with their deaths, Harry- you are innocent in this matter! I know it will take time for my words to sink in, but I beg you listen.

"During my youth, the dark sorceror Grindelwald was rampant. He killed many, glorying in the Dark Arts as Voldemort does. My mother and father were one of those killed, and I was devasted beyond words. I blamed their deaths on some fault of mine. It ate away at me, Harry, and I grew bitter in my own self-revulsion. Then I realized the truth of what people all around were trying to get through to me- _it was not my fault._ I got my life back in order, changing direction.

"I was thirty years old then, Harry; much, much older than yourself. I can only imagine what you can be feeling; can only imagine your loss. You never knew your family- I had mine for thirty years, and still am blessed with Aberforth, my brother. You had no one for so long. But Harry, despite that there are people who love you; who want to help you. Why, I'm sure the Weasleys would jump at the chance to defend you as one of their own!" Harry smiled at that, imagining his shock of raven hair and vivid emerald eyes among the masses of red and freckles.

"You are never, never alone, Harry. And I want you to know..." Here Dumbledore paused to tighten his grip on Harry's hand. "I will always be there for you, dear boy, and I understand a small part of the terrible, chasming ache inside you. From now on, I am going to do what I should have from the very beginning. I am going to help train and mentor you for the final battle that looms ever closer."

Harry was touched, drawn into Dumbledore's words of comfort. He felt a new bond between him and the Headmaster form, and knew the beginnings of the healing process were coming into effect. Without any planning, Harry threw his arms around Dumbledore, trying to show his thanks that Dumbledore had shared something so private with him. He had unknowingly- or maybe knowingly, no one ever knew with the old coot, Harry thought fondly- prodded Harry in the most gentlest of fashions onto his journey toward self-forgiveness.

The professor seemed a little surprised and taken-aback at Harry's embrace, but he responded in kind, wrapping firm arms around the boy who was undoubtedly his favorite pupil.

When they parted a few seconds later, Dumbledore stood up and prepared to leave. As he reached the door, Harry called out to him.

"Sir!"

"Harry?"

Harry had a sheepish yet apologetic look on his face. "I'm sorry about last year. How I acted in your office, I mean."

Dumbledore smiled.

"Nonsense. There is nothing to be sorry for, dear boy. You were simply letting out your feelings in the only way you knew. Forgive and forget, I say." And then he was gone.

Harry lied down, closing his eyes. Happiness was engulfing him; he felt lighter and more free than he had in a long time. Indeed, the healing process was taking place. The gaping hole inside him was beginning to fill; fill with the love of all those in the house with him.

* * *

A/N: I ADORE REVIEWS! (wink) I hopefully will be able to get the next chapter up sooner than I did this one. Thanks!

**AngelMoon Girl**


	8. Occlumency

Wow, such great reviews I've gotten! Thank you especially to: **Dragon Star16, ****Alexandria Lily Potter, ****Xelena, Riker 15, Gabwr, Harryisagod, and hedwig136**. Your reviews keep me going (and on cloud nine!). I love reading them.

I'm sorry if anyone had to wait for this chapter to get up, but I was overloaded with schoolwork, and that took priority. However, my Christmas vacation is coming up so hopefully I'll be able to upload more then!

Updated and edited chapter 8.

**It Ends Now**

Part 8: "Occlumency"

The next morning, Harry opened his eyes to see a very disgruntled, beady-eyed Madam Pomfrey checking him over. She was muttering on and on, continually glaring daggers at the door. Apparently, something was angering the nurse. Harry was able to catch a little of her incessant rambling through the tongue-clicking.

"Shouldn't be out yet, but Headmaster wishes...should have more bedrest..." Harry sat up quite quickly, throwing the covers back in an air of dismembering himself from his prison.

"I'm _fine_, Madam Pomfrey," Harry said forcefully, ready to protest if need be. He was NOT going to spend another day in this accursed bed!

"I know you are, Potter, but still..." She let the sentence run off into oblivion, straightening up.

"Eat a good breakfast, and I want _no_ strenuous activity for a week yet- this includes Quidditch," the woman added as an afterthought, talking as if she were ticking off a list. "If you feel tender or sore, rest immediately." Harry nodded vigorously, wanting very much for her to leave now. He pondered on how to say this kindly, but then gave up the futile work. Madam Pomfrey was not the type of person who was detoured easily.

Finally, after one last examination (to Harry's intense displeasure), the old nurse left. Harry gingerly got out of bed, his legs buckling slightly. He'd been trapped lying down for a few days, and his sore appendages needed exercise. He pulled on one of Dudley's old shirts, then some jeans. Apparently, someone had taken the liberty of retrieving his things from the Dursleys, as now his trunk and personal possesions were at the foot of the bed.

Harry made his way downstairs slowly, not wanting to draw attention to himself. Those at the table having breakfast were Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, Fred, George, Hermione, Ron, Bill Weasley, Tonks, Professor Lupin, and Mad-Eye Moody. It seemed as if the crowd had gathered just to greet Harry, as they all looked up when Harry made the slightest creak.

"Harry!" Smiles were plastered on all faces in one radiant beam. Even Mad-Eye Moody, whose smile looked more like a painful grimace. He looked even scarier that way; it went along _too_ well with his scruffy appearance.

"Would you like some breakfast, Harry?"

"How are you feeling?"

"Want some toast? Or eggs?" Millions of questions overwhelmed Harry, and he had no idea who to answer first. Fred and George were not making things any better, playing into their roles of jokesters.

"Want to marry me, Harry?"

"Want to kiss me, Harry?"

Mrs. Weasley shot a look of reproaching anger at them, clearly saying in the language of mothers to 'Shut up'. The twins just smirked nonchalantly among the flurry of talking. Finally, Moody aided in ceasing the predicament.

"Quiet!" he barked, thumping his wooden leg against the floor. Everyone shut their mouths instantly. "Let Potter speak, for Merlin's sake!" Harry smiled gratefully at the old auror, taking a seat beside Ron.

"I'm feeling fine, and I would love some toast, thanks," Harry spoke at last. Mrs. Weasley plopped down three pieces of toast onto Harry's plate, telling him to "Eat up! There's more where that came from". Plan 'fatten-up-Harry' was in phase one, Harry thought with an inward smile.

oOo

The week passed uneventfully. Harry lounged around playing Exploding Snap and Wizard chess with Ron and Hermione until dark, when he found himself ushered into bed by firm Mrs. Weasley. Madam Pomfrey had returned to school, deeming him healed enough to be left to his own devices. Sometimes, Harry worked on his summer homework, or read a chapter in his textbooks, which made Hermione proud. If only Snape could see him now! He'd hardly believe his own eyes... Mrs. Weasley had purchased all their texts and supplies as she had promised.

Most of all, though, Harry pined to be outside on his Firebolt. He wanted to feel the rush of freedom; to have warm, fresh air lap at his face in a way Grimmauld could not accomodate when one was indoors. There was a patch of grass in the backyard, neat and sectioned off as was per usual in London neighborhoods. However, with permission from Dumbledore and a little magical help from the Order, this space had been charmed to grow eleven times its previous size. In Hogwarts terms, roughly as big as the Quidditch Pitch. It seemed only reasonable that if children were to be staying at Grimmauld, they needed a safe area to consort and fraternize out in the fresh air. Provided no one flew over the Fidelis Charm's wards, which extended to about one hundred feet above the house, it was alright for the Gryffindors to go flying. Therefore, it was only fitting that when the week came to a conclusion, Harry and Ron scheduled a Quidditch match between them and Hermione versus the twins and Ginny. The twins would be heading back to _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes _the next day, and the teens wanted to spend as much time together as possible before the family parted.

Eventually, said game ended with Harry's team the triumphant winners. It had taken Hermione a while, and though she was still shaky on a broomstick, the girl had certainly been able to hold her own. The six companions played five more rounds, splitting even by the end.

"Tie?" George said.

"Tie," Harry repeated. He did loop-de-loops through the summer breeze and watched as Ginny mounted off her broom gracefully. She waved up to them, gesturing in the direction of Grimmauld Place.

"I'm hungry. Want lunch now?"

"Absolutely!" the twins echoed each other, flying down and clamboring off their broomsticks in a much more ungainly fashion. The two started up towards the house without a second glance back. Ginny was about to follow, but on second thought looked back up at the trio.

"You lot coming or not?" Harry looked around at his two friends floating on either side.

"Um, I think I want to fly a bit longer. It's been a while since I've been able to," he answered.

"We're going to stay with Harry," Ron stated immediately, Harry having to smile at his loyalty. Ginny shrugged and trudged up to the house. Hermione's hovering broom began to descend and she unsteadily fell off once reaching solid ground.

"I think I'd like to watch you from down here," the girl said, brushing dirt off the front of her pants. She moved into sitting position and crossed her legs, then proceeded to pull a hefty text out of her famous bookbag. Ron snorted. That thing went _everywhere_!

"Oi! Thought you said you were going to watch us!" he yelled down.

"I _am_ watching you," Hermione responded vaguely, not tearing her eyes away from the page. She began muttering under her breath and waving her wand into strange patterns, practicing. Harry thought it might be for Defense, or maybe Charms, but Ron didn't seem to care. He just shook his head disgustedly at her dubious display of attention.

"Girls," he mumbled. Harry laughed at the look on his face.

"You know you like her," he said, not meaning to throw this out so bluntly. He had known about their subtle feelings for each other for a while now, even if they didn't (or didn't want to- it was hard to discern).

"WHAT!?" Ron exclaimed, face and ears flushing bright red. Hermione, from below, gazed up questioningly. She had not heard the sly comment made about her and Ron. "Why you..."

Ron lunged at Harry in exaggerated and playful fury. Harry rocketed away, chuckling all the while. He began launching toward the ground from about seventy feet up, and upon glancing back saw his chum close on his heels. Ron was laughing now too. Harry's gaze flew back towards the looming earth, ready to make his spectacular pull-up at any second... it had to be just right...

That was when it hit him. Scorching pain, like blazing fire, shot through his scar. It was consuming; so blinding... Harry could no longer see or hear; he raised his hands off his broom to clutch his head. Then, like a siren in fog, Ron's voice burst through.

"HARRY! PULL UP, PULL UP! _HARRY_!"

With what seemed all his effort, Harry prodigiously placed his hands back on the handle and shot up- he didn't know he had only been mere inches from crashing. The wind stung and slapped his face painfully. Harry hissed- the cool air was not soothing on the inflamed scar. His broomstick halted in midair, resting about fifty feet above the ground. However, the pounding in Harry's head only became worse. He doubled over in unbearable pain, wishing it departure. Far from it, the pain crescendoed, and with a cry Harry was drawn into a swirling vortex, thoughts screaming by like bullets. Someone was beckoning him; calling him... Harry felt detatched from his body: he no longer felt the pain; he no longer felt _anything..._

Harry's vision cleared astutely, and a dark room came into view. He was looking down at a hooded person, unable to see their face. The person shifted, and Harry recognized the subtle nervousness trying to be hidden by averted eyes. He gazed down to see a pair of pale, white hands- one of these ghastly, ghostly hands was clutching a wand. With a jolt of shock, Harry realized who they belonged to, and whose eyes he was regarding the scene through. He tried to gasp, but no sound came out. Instead, a high, cold voice issued forth, all too familar in the dim, echoing room.

"Along with my other instructions, I will warn you. Not a finger is to be laid on Potter from you- he is mine, and mine alone. Jubilant will be the day when I finally rid the world of him!"

"Yes, master," the person murmured. It was a man's deep voice that came out from under the hood. Harry felt Voldemort's face curl into a sneering smile, and then a wave of pain enveloped the teen. He felt himself being pulled back to reality. Vaguely, he thought he heard a girl or a woman screaming, and a cooling, almost falling sensation that one feels in dreams...

Then everything went black like night.

oOo

Harry opened his eyes, the grass cool under him. He was lying spread-eagle on the ground, Firebolt at his side and miraculously unharmed. Oddly, he felt no sore joints or even pain. Ron's face was above his, contorted with a mixture of atonishment and fearful worry. His normally flushed features were pallid and... was it sickly almost?

"Oh good, you're coming around... Harry, you okay? You fell like fifty feet! Should I go call Pomfrey or-"

"I did?" Harry cut in, still focused on the fact that he had just fallen fifty feet. How strange. Once again, Harry was struck with the abnormality of the situation. He felt perfectly fine, as if he'd just woken up from a nightmare-filled sleep and nothing more. Harry sat up, lifting a hand to clutch his forehead. A small trace of blood lay etched on the hand that Harry brought to his eyes, barely noticeable. The boy once again wondered why his scar was doing this, but at the moment, it was the least of his ponderings.

His reverie was interrupted by two screams. He looked up very fast, almost getting a crick in his neck. Just as he did, the two sources of the screams, Hermione and Mrs. Weasley, fell down at his side. Hermione, who'd left hastily to retrieve Ron's mother, fearfully inched at him. Her eyes were wide and her countenance was an aurora of worry.

"Harry, Harry, are you okay? Did you break anything? Oh God, that was such a fall, and after Madam Pomfrey told us not to play Quidditch for a week, and what do we do? We go play-"

"HERMIONE! Quit the melodramatics; seriously, I'm alright!"

"You fell fifty feet; you most certainly are not just 'alright'!" Mrs. Weasley backed up Hermione. She said it with an almost hysterical and stern air, trying to mother the boy while shoving some sense into him.

"Mrs. Weasley, please believe me!" Harry pleaded. He stood up, emitting gasps from the two frantic females. Just to prove the validity of his claim, Harry sprinted around a bit, then came back to their side.

"See, I'm fine!" Harry reassured jovially. He smiled.

"How, though? You fall fifty feet off a broom and come out without even a scratch? How'd you do it?" Ron questioned, a hint of amazement and even suspicion in his voice. Now Harry stopped and let the truth crash onto him like a boulder. How _had _he gotten away without a cut? Did Voldemort have something to do with this, or was it his own powers?

"I..." Harry could not seem to find an acceptable answer, and was now just as nonplussed as Ron. Mrs. Weasley gave in reluctantly, standing up. Hermione followed suit.

"I'm going to inform Dumbledore of this, make no mistake. And in the meantime, Harry, I beg you come in and at least have a short lie-down," the maternal Weasley crooned slightly. Harry was in no mood not to concur. With happy spirits, he followed her up to Grimmauld, his friends trailing. Being in front of them, Harry missed the worried expressions they were exchanging.

oOo

That night, dinner was an extremely uncomfortable affair for Harry. After the constant glances in his direction, he was only too compliant to leave the table when finished. Why did people always act as if he were a fragile object that needed to be shielded away from everything? He was not an ignorant, blithe little boy of eleven anymore! He was nearly sixteen; a young adult, and deserved to be treated as one.

Before Harry made it to his bedroom, he was hailed by Mr. Weasley. The man approached Harry quickly, coming out from the kitchen.

"Dumbledore wants to see you in an office off this floor. It's the fourth door on the right," he informed. Harry nodded, silently counting down the doors.

"Thanks," he said, setting off. He knocked on the study door.

"Come in!" a pleasant voice welcomed. Harry pushed open the door to find Dumbledore seated behind a dusty, brown bureau.

"Please, sit down Harry," he offered, moving his hand towards an old, red armchair. Harry did as told, already knowing what their conversation was to be about. He perched upon the edge, waiting.

"I heard you had a little mishap this morning," Dumbledore began conversationally, his ocean blue depths piercing Harry's emerald ones. "Do you mind telling me the ordeal from your point of view? I've already heard the general details from Mr. Ronald Weasley."

"Well..." Harry said, gathering his thoughts on the incident. "Ron and I were flying around and I was in a dive when my scar began burning. At the last minute, I heard Ron telling me to pull up and I did. The pain got worse, and I was drawn into Voldemort's mind. There was a hooded man in front of him. Voldemort said how he- Voldemort, not the other man- was to be the one to kill me. They... said something about a plan, too. The last thing I remember is a girl screaming, then everything went black." Harry hoped his summary wasn't too vague for the elder, but Dumbledore seemed to understand it perfectly. The mage nodded, gracing Harry with a small smile.

"I do believe the scream was Miss Granger as she observed your fall," he stated humorously. "Ron told me she went a tad hysterical."

"Sir... why didn't I get hurt?"

"Hmm... It is my guess that perhaps your magic protected you. Or maybe it had something to do with the vision- Voldemort said he didn't want you harmed, and then you weren't. Intriguing, isn't it? Perhaps your subconscious magic, hidden deep within your core, protected you," Dumbledore mused thoughtfully.

"Er... okay," Harry said, not really comprehending the last of what his old Headmaster was saying. Subconscious magic? "My scar bled again too. Why do you think it's doing this? I mean, it never has before..."

"I have a hunch, Harry, that possibly it bleeds when Voldemort is pervading your mind," Dumbledore replied immediately, steepling his fingers together in an idiosyncratic way. He touched the tips to his lips.

"Then why-"

"Didn't your scar bleed before?" Dumbledore finished. He gave an airy wave. "As you know, Voldemort is much stronger than before. His magic has become more powerful, and it is causing more of an effect upon you physically. Then again, maybe it has something to do with the blood he stole from you that night in the Graveyard? I don't know, Harry. It's all smoke and mirrors right now; anyone's guess. Your curse scar is incredibly rare; and certainly the connection unique. Not much research has been done that would aid us in this instance.

"On another note, very much related to this, it is my wish that you continue on with Occlumency. It is prudent we avoid these dreams and 'possessions' like the plague, for fear that one day, you may be sucked in and never return." Harry gulped. He could even feel the panic rising in his chest. Sucked into his head, never to return? It was something people only ever heard of in Muggle horror movies, but to experience that suffocation; that nightmare for the rest of your existence?

"Calm down, dear boy!" Dumbledore exclaimed softly, pinning Harry with appraising orbs. Harry tried to let a feeling of calm wash over him; engulf him. It was difficult, but possible. He suspected Dumbledore was lending a hand as well; he could feel the gentle chafe of magic brushing against his mind, caressing it gently. "We cannot have you hyperventilating, or Madam Pomfrey will have my head!"

Harry laughed, but some fear still remained. Trapped forever with Voldemort was a definite joy-killer.

"Um, sir... surely I'm not being taught by Sn... _Professor _Snape?" Harry corrected quickly.

"No, Harry. I'm sure you'll agree with me that that was a fiasco. I will be teaching you," Dumbledore answered firmly, the merest glint of amusement to his tone. Harry sighed a breath of relief.

"When will we begin?"

"Now," Dumbledore said simply.

Harry stuttered. He was not at all good at Occlumency, and after the pensieve incident hadn't put his heart into practicing it. "_Now_?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "It will be nothing too pressurizing. It is the first lesson today, and I will go into more depth later. Today I will not use much force. One tip before we begin- try to build up an almost protective wall in your mind; something to block me out. To form it, be serene and imagine it clearly. As I repeat, I will start small now and become stealthier and harder as we continue. Unfortunately, Professor Snape and I did not share the same views on this subject."

He let loose a tiny frown of displeasure, but it evaporated quickly. The Headmaster stood up, drawing his wand. Harry followed suit, a small edge of uncertainty still within him. He too pulled out his wand.

"On three, Harry. I will count slowly to allow you time to build up your wall. Remember, tranquility is the key to beginning. Clear your mind..."

Harry closed his eyes and drew in deep, cleansing breaths. He tried to avoid all thought process.

"One..."

Harry was drifting away; free...

"Two..."

He built up his wall, trying to use inner force to hold it up.

"Three..."

Harry's mind was blissfully blank, and the wall was in place- he was ready.

"Legilimens!"

Harry felt the spell invading his mind, softly searching, ruffling through layers... it suddenly prodded at Harry's wall, but Harry held firm... this was too easy...

Then Dumbledore's nimble magic found a loophole and the wall crashed down, bringing Harry's mental defense with it. Memory upon memory flowed forth: _Harry was in his spidery, dusty cupboard alone... Hundreds of dementors were drifting towards him, Hermione, and Sirius... Dudley, drunk, was taunting Harry... the fist flew foward..._

"NO!" Harry heard himself scream, desperately trying to get away from the memory. "NO!"

_The fist connected with his face_... then it was gone. Dumbledore had let go of the spell, not wanting to force Harry to watch that ordeal again. The raven-headed heart-throb sank into his chair with shaking knees, hands hiding his face. Dumbledore moved around the desk to observe Harry better.

"I humbly apologize, Harry. I didn't mean for you to see that again. Perhaps we are beginning a bit early; you still need rest. My mistake. Old men are famous for their reminiscings of youth's endurance, but they forget that young people have limits as well. I will start up again when school resumes; I quite think you should be feeling better then. I'm very, very sorry."

Harry nodded, pulling his hands away from his face and giving Dumbledore a look that clearly forgave him.

"Try to clear your mind every night before bed, and build up your wall. This will hopefully serve to decrease the dreams, and possibly will hone your skills enough in this art until our next encounter, so you will be able to better deflect my intrusions," Dumbledore said lightly. Harry nodded again. Words failed the exhausted teen right now; all he wanted to do was rest. It had been a very long, very eventful day and he wanted to reflect upon it no longer. He tried to stand, but fell back onto the chair as another weak spell over came him. With sympathy, Dumbledore helped Harry up and walked him to his room for the night.

* * *

A/N: OK, how was this chapter? Reviews!

Well, have a very lovely Christmas! XOXO

**AngelMoon Girl**


	9. Surprises

Thank you to all my reviewers… I am eternally grateful towards people who take the time to tell me how they thought of the chapter. I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas, Hannukah (I hope that's spelled right; I apologize if it isn't), etc. Sorry that you all had to wait for a while but you know how busy holidays are! My midterms are coming up and I'm praying they won't delay me too much. Patience, everyone!

Disclaimer: If I owned a million dollars, I wouldn't have a disclaimer… Harry Potter would be all mine, but the story would just suck. No one can take away from JK Rowling's work; she is unparalleled!

Edited chapter 9. As always, please look for this note. If it isn't there, don't be discouraged by lackluster chapters, contradictions, and misspellings. They will be changed soon.

**It Ends Now**

Part 9: "Surprises"

Harry opened his eyes, feeling more refreshed and well-rested than he had in a long time. It was odd; he felt almost like a new person, a free person. Perhaps it helped that outside, the sun was shining brightly in all its glory, and birds chirped cheerily. Taking a deep breath as if trying to suck in all these gay surroundings, Harry flew out of bed and threw on his clothing. With happy spirits he then bounded down the stairs. Only Mrs. Weasley and Hermione were seated at the table. Mrs. Weasley was engulfed in _The Daily Prophet, _whilst Hermione was perusing a Transfiguration textbook. She seemed to be hungrily devouring every word, but pulled herself back to reality when Harry came through the door.

"Good morning!" Harry greeted cheerily, a smile radiating off his lips. Hermione's face instantly mirrored his, pleased by the change in her best friend. She hadn't seen a smile this big on Harry since, well... since before the Department of Mysteries fiasco.

"Hey!"

"You seem to be feeling better," Mrs. Weasley assumed lightly. She pushed a bowl of oatmeal towards him and Harry gratefully accepted it.

"Yeah, I guess I am," Harry mulled over a bite. "And thank you, it's delicious!" Harry consumed a few more spoonfuls of the warm breakfast, then asked,

"Where is everyone else? I would've expected more people to be out."

"Lazy buns; still asleep! Arthur's already left for work, as did most everyone else who was here."

"Oh, Professor Lupin's gone? And Tonks?" Harry questioned, a very subtle hint of sadness permeating his tone. Mrs. Weasley clucked at that.

"Yes, but don't worry, you'll see them soon. In fact, they're coming to dinner tonight, along with some other guests."

"Tonight?"

Mrs. Weasley's only response was a small, mysterious smile. Harry looked between her and Hermione, whose face was carefully masked by her book. He desperately wanted to know the answer, but was not one to push or prod so let the matter drop. At that very moment, a distraction in the name of Ron stumbled in. He looked incredibly groggy and sleepy, hair rumpled as he stifled a large yawn.

"Happy-"

Mrs. Weasley and Hermione both shot him warning looks. Ron changed tact at top speed.

"-morning, everyone!" he finished. "Oh, what a beautiful er... _day_!" Harry cocked an eyebrow, certain this was not the original greeting he'd planned on saying. But like before, Harry made no mention of it. He decided pondering was equally as frustrating, and went back to gourging himself. Mrs. Weasley was _such_ a good cook! Ron pulled up a chair to sit beside him, then the youngest Weasley boy piled up a plate of sausage and eggs. Harry chortled through his oatmeal when the ginger began stuffing his face in an eerily Dudley-reminiscent way.

"Whachoanadoay?" Ron asked through a mouth full of half-digested yellow and brown victuals.

"Excuse me?" Harry returned politely, at the same moment as Hermione muttered "disgusting" and Mrs. Weasley sent a venomous, reprimanding look at her son. Ron gave an enormous swallow, blushing.

"I said, 'What do you want to do today'?" he repeated thickly.

"Oh...um..." Harry's mind remained stubbornly, irritatingly blank. What _did _he feel like doing?

Hermione immediately made use of the situation and momentary pause.

"We could work on Snape's dragon blood uses essay," she prompted. "Harry hasn't done that yet, and I know you haven't started your Transfiguration essay either, Ron."

"Er... I was thinking we'd go outside for some fresh air," Ron said vaguely, clearly brushing Hermione off while implying that he wanted to do _no_ such homework today.

"Oh, so you'll work on the essay tomorrow, will you? Or maybe next _month_?" Hermione shot sarcastically. "Oh wait, I _forgot_... term starts then! Honestly, you procrastinate to the extreme!" Ron's jaw plumb dropped, and Harry sensed the oncoming insult and impending arguement. He remained mute; it did not bode well to interrupt the two's quarrels. But before Ron had opened his mouth, Mrs. Weasley cut in trying to calm them.

"Ron, dear... Hermione has a point. It's best to finish now rather than later," she put in lightly. Ron sighed, sensing defeat. With as much dignity as possible, he apologized and agreed to work on the essay. Hermione looked as if she'd just won Best Student award, whilst Ron's expression resembled that of someone just being bludgeoned on the side of his head. The brilliant witch dragged off the other two to Harry's room.

oOo

An hour later, Ron gave an angry cry, balling up his fifth piece of paper.

"I can't do it; I can't concentrate!" He began ripping viciously at the paper. "Stupid, stupid, McGonagall! Stupid essay!" Hermione had an almost hurtful look on her face, as if _she'd _been the one insulted.

"Ron, that's mean!" she admonished. "Really, it's not _that _hard! If I'm almost done Snape's, surely you can sit long enough to write McGonagall's." The girl finished up the last touches on her essay, going way beyond the minimum of five feet. Harry was halfway through his paper, though he highly doubted it came even close to Hermione's. He wanted so badly to join Ron in whining, but felt that might ruin his high spirits.

_"Please _Hermione, let's play a game now, like chess!" Ron pleaded desperately. Luckly, his persuasion bore fruit, as Hermione laid down her quill in an air of completion and compliance.

"I suppose," she gave in.

Ron cheered. "Hermione, you are a _goddess_!"

Hermione's features turned pink, and she made a strange noise that sounded like "Meep!". Harry could have sliced the tension with a knife. Ron, realizing what he had just said, also blushed.

"Er... not literally," he corrected, embarrassed. The boy shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "Um... the chess game's downstairs..."

"I'll get it!" Harry shot out of his seat and immediately started downstairs. He did not wish to be in this awkward situation any longer than he had to! Let Ron and Hermione sort out their romantic tension; he wanted _no_ part of that! _Ew, ew, ew_, the child in his mind hollered.

Harry reached the bottom step, preparing to open the kitchen door where beyond lay the game, probably still helter-skelter on the countertop from yesterday. Voices were trickling out from underneath the crack, and Harry paused. Should he listen in? Harry thought it might be even worse walking in; what if this was meant to be a private conversation? He turned around, preparing to go back upstairs. However, his curiosity got the better of him. What if this was Order business, and had to do with Voldemort? Surely _he_ was privy to the details; Harry was, after all, the reason anyone knew the Dark Lord had risen! The teen cursed his insatiable curiousity, but ended up surrendering to its whims. Sirius always used to say he was too nosy for his own good... Harry pressed his ear to the door. Mrs. Weasley was saying something to someone.

"... didn't even know what day it was!" she was saying, almost sadly. A second, more garbled voice responded, and Harry's recognized it as Ginny's quiet one. He pressed his ear into the door harder.

"... probably never had a... good we're giving... very happy!"

Harry's eyebrows contorted in confusion. What were they _talking _about? Guilt crept into Harry's system and he pulled away from the door. _Eavesdropping is not right, _a small voice inside Harry chided. The voice always reminded Harry remarkably of Hermione. _Hmm. I really should listen to her more often_.

He knocked loudly. In mid-knock, the voices ceased and silence rang out.

"Come in!" Mrs. Weasley called. Harry opened the door.

"Harry!" the two showed no sign of having previously shared a "private" conversation.

"May I get the chess game?" Harry asked politely, a look of well-formed innocence on his face. It seemed to be the correct trick.

"Of course, dear!" Mrs. Weasley cried, all helpfulness. "You don't even have to ask." She smiled and retrieved it for him, placing the game into his hands.

"Thanks." Harry quickly turned on his heel and retreated back upstairs, missing the concerned look on Mrs. Weasley's face as she watched him leave.

oOo

The trio were engrossed until late afternoon, but then both Hermione and Ron confessed fatigue. Harry was dumbfounded.

"What? You're tired? But it's only afternoon!" Their only response was a shake of the head and then they were gone. Harry sighed, a small amount of loneliness gnawing at him. He looked out over the magically modified grounds. There was a gentle rustling, then Harry felt claws softly cleave into his shoulder. He turned his head, smiling at the snowy colored Hedwig as she perched onto him. She pecked affectionately at his finger when he began petting her white feathers, pleased with the soliticitous ministrations. The owl seemed happier now that Harry's depression was rapidly disappearing, but then again, it could have just been having freedom. Being at the Dursleys never let her see much of the outdoors beyond the cage's view. Somehow, though, Harry knew there was a connection between him and his pet. Instinct told him that it was for the first reason that she felt good-natured, and not just because they were far away from Harry's cruel relatives.

"Hey girl," he mumbled softly, continuing to stroke her lightly. Hedwig hooted, giving one last peck then streaking off into the setting sun. Harry yawned, boredom setting in as he plopped down on the bed. The door opened and he immediately looked up. Mrs. Weasley was there.

"Dear, dinner's in half an hour," she said. "Don't be late!" She said this in a joking tone that Harry returned.

"I won't." He chuckled and the Weasley mother left, closing the door. _Hmm, so early... Ah, well. I'm pretty hungry and we had an early lunch._ Harry contented himself with reading a book on Occlumency he had discovered earlier in the Black library.

oOo

Half an hour later found Harry aimlessly walking down the hallway for dinner. He frowned at the mysterious lack of light, wondering if everyone had gone outside to eat. It was such a nice day; maybe they just forgot to tell him... Harry pondered turning around and going for the back door, but decided against it. Best check the kitchen, first. Said room came into view, and Harry noticed the door was wide open. He squinted in, but the room was blanketed in total darkness. Well, that confirmed his suspicions that dinner was elsewhere. Jeez, why hadn't at least Ron or Hermione warned him? He frowned, then jumped when sixteen flares of luminescence popped into existence. Harry almost yelped and only just barely refrained going for his wand when a plethora of voices shouted,

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HARRY!"

The room was suddenly flooded in light. Harry found himself staring at a large white cake, and about twenty people surrounding it. The Boy-Who-Lived blinked, mouth gaping like a fish. Oh wait... _today_ was his birthday? In all the excitement- or rather danger- of the past few weeks, Harry had completely forgotten! He glanced at the calendar innocently hanging on the wall. Yep, July 31st. He didn't know what to say or think, but decided gratitude was the first course he should take.

"I... I... thank you!" he exclaimed. It was heartening, and a little embarrassing, that _so_ many people had come to celebrate his birthday. A couple people he didn't know were there, but Harry surmised they were Order members. They looked familiar of course... perhaps some of his Advanced Guard from last year? Harry's emerald eyes roved over everyone in the room. There were Professors McGonagall, Dumbledore and Lupin, to his left and grinning like idiots. Hmm, now that was picture-worthy! And then- _holy hell_!- even _Snape_ was there! Though admittedly, he looked suspiciously sour and was favoring the shadowy corner. Harry reckoned the bat had not come of his own free will. Judging by the way the Potions Master was glowering at an oblivious Dumbledore, he most _definitely_ had been coerced! Harry spared a dubious "_Why_?" in his brain, but then continued on with his eyesweep. Mrs. Weasley was teary-eyed and smiling to his right, and Mr. Weasley was beside her. Even Moody, Tonks, Bill and Kingsley Shacklebolt had come! Ron, Hermione, and Ginny pushed their way through the crowd, beaming from ear to ear. At the sight of the youngest Weasley, Harry suddenly remembered the conversation he'd eavesdropped on. Epiphany dawned and Harry began realizing what they must have been talking about... or more precisely, _who_. That made him grin even more.

"You knew all along," he accused happily, and Ron threw up his arms.

"Yeah, but of course we were sworn to secrecy! Mum practically threatened to flay us within an inch of our lives if we let anything slip! Anyway, happy birthday, mate," Ron said.

"Blow out your candles, Harry!" Ginny squealed, guiding him over to the table. Harry suddenly felt vaguely nervous with everyone watching him, but pushed it aside. He was the frigging Boy-Who-Lived, right? He should be used to people gawking and taking pictures and wanting autographs and the like!

"Make a wish!" Hermione coaxed, and Harry pivoted to eye her strangely.

"Why?" he prompted, truely ignorant on the matter. Everyone stared disbelievingly.

"Er... it's tradition," Hermione replied. She and most everyone else in the room realized that this was probably Harry's first proper birthday party. Mrs. Weasley let out a stifled sniffle. This would be Harry's best party ever, she promised. _And damn those Muggles_!

"Ok," Harry shrugged, thinking hard. What he wanted most of _all_ was Voldemort's downfall, and for all his loved ones to remain safe. He squeezed his eyes closed. This was his wish, his one true wish. _I just want peace..._

"Blow out the candles!" Ginny repeated excitedly when Harry opened his eyes. He did so, and everyone cheered. Harry was struck again by the amount of love that seemed to be flowing through the room, and pushed down a lump in his throat as the realization came to him that it was all directed towards him. _Well, except Snape_. That helped sober the boy up. No, definitely no love could be found lurking in that sneer!

The cake was eaten and presents were passed forward to Harry. He loved everything, and felt a bit overwhelmed at the amount of gifts and friendly tokens he received. No surprises there when Snape excused himself just as Mrs. Weasley proclaimed "Present time!"... Harry'd wanted to laugh as he'd watched the man stalk away, robes flying in typical billowing fashion. It was a wonder the spy had lasted that long, even!

And so Harry had ripped into the pile, attempting to make a sizable dent before nightfall. _Really, people didn't need to spoil him the way they did_! Among Harry's favorites were a Defense Against the Dark Arts book from Moody and an odd protection necklace from Dumbledore. The Headmaster had explained it to Harry as the boy held it in his hands, rubbing it gently. It was in the form of a small ring.

"This is a Protering, used only in the most dire of situations. String it about your neck, and wear it everywhere, Harry. I have the same one, and when you say _Protering Activate! _mine will turn hot. Remember to squeeze it as you say this, so I will be called to your aid. The Protering will lead me to you. Don't forget, it can only be used when the caller is in desperate need of help," Dumbledore instructed. Harry nodded, quietly passing on a very grateful 'thank you' as he pulled it over his neck. The metal was cool as it splayed against his chest.

Lupin came forward after all the presents were done, pulling Harry aside.

"Harry, my present is a bit more emotional and I think would be best received in private. Can we go upstairs to your room, perhaps?"

"Sure, professor," Harry replied easily, leading the way. Lupin shook his head in exasperation as he followed.

"Please, just call me Remus. I'm no longer your professor," he corrected. Harry nodded, smiling, and the two continued upstairs. When the pair finally reached Harry's bedroom, aforementioned raven head perched himself on the edge of the bed. Lupin followed suit, sitting very close next to Harry. He cleared his throat, fingers trembling just a little bit as he pulled out a mirror from his frayed pocket. Harry's eyes widened in recognition.

"That's..."

Lupin nodded. "I found this in Sirius' room after his death. I know you had the other, and so I'm asking if you'd like to share a mirror connection with me."

Harry just stared, still in shock. Lupin's face fell a fraction and he hurriedly added, "Only if you want to, of course. I know the mirror was sentimental and you may not want use it so soon after Sirius' passing. But it might be useful in keeping track of each other, and if you ever wanted to talk-"

Harry nodded vigorously, then looked down ashamedly.

"I...er... smashed my mirror after Sirius died, though," he muttered, eyes averted.

"Easily fixed," Lupin reconciled. "Do you have the pieces?"

Harry knelt down and opened his school trunk, sifting through textbooks and half-finished homework and robes to get to the bottom. He exhaled shakily, then pointed out the scattered mirror shards to his father's old friend. Lupin pointed his wand down into the trunk.

"Reparo!" The mirror chunks flew together, like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle completed by some invisible hand. Lupin picked up the newly fixed mirror and handed it to Harry. He pointed his wand at it again.

"Minimus!" The mirror shrunk to pocket size. Harry observed it carefully.

"Keep this with you all the time, and not trying to repeat Professor Dumbledore here, but call my name into the reflection when you need me. Before using it, cast '_Maximus'_, " Lupin instructed, pocketing his own. Then he did something he'd never done before, and kissed Harry on the forehead, right on top of his scar. Harry twitched in surprise, then smiled warmly.

"Thank you very much, Remus."

"Your welcome. Happy birthday, Harry."

Lupin left after his fond farewell and birthday wishes. Harry stretched on his bed, preparing to go back down and face the hordes of aquaintances desiring to make this his best birthday ever. _And they were succeeding... _

A tingly feeling went through Harry's body, like midnight stars tickling him with their light. Harry went back downstairs, ready to enjoy this happy time with the people he loved best. Unfortunately, trying times were fast approaching, and soon- too soon- Harry would be looking back on these final days of summer with wistful, bittersweet longing...

* * *

Ooh, cliffhanger! Hoped you liked it- ReViEw rEvIeW!

**AngelMoon Girl**


	10. Ambush

A very warm thank you to my reviewers- I love you all! Not really any big announcements, except my midterms are fast approaching (gulp) and I'm praying no delays come out of that. Enjoy, my dear readers! And please click on the 'Submit Review' button below when finished- please? Pretty please with sugar on top? Just kidding, but do review if possible!

Disclaimer: (sigh) Must we go through this every time? I do not own Harry Potter.

**This is the edited chapter 10**. Again, updates are continuously being pumped out by yours truly, so look out for these notes before you read a chapter! If they seem primitive and poorly written, that's because I haven't gotten my hands on it just yet.

P.S. There's no shipping in this story... I don't think, at least :-D That could change, of course. BUT, there are romantic hintings, and if you haven't already guessed they are HG and RHr. Kay? Kay.

**It Ends Now**

Part 10: "Ambush"

The rest of the summer slipped away quite uneventfully, as July collapsed into August, and August sunk into September. Days passed in leaps and bounds, hurried along by bouts of Quidditch, homework, and some much-needed family time. Before Harry knew it, summer was whisked away by the great enveloping arms of autumn. He often found himself grinning at the prospect of a new school year at Hogwarts, wondering what surprises would be in store this term. Hopefully, dragons weren't on the menu, but Harry thought he might be able to handle a dance or two... The idea got him sniggering, recalling the torments of giggly girls and stuttering first dates. Then he remembered Cho, and how terribly that had ended (at least for him)... and sobered up immediately. There was no time for romance when one was the Chosen One, the teen reminded himself sternly. _If_ he lived past seventh year; _if _he vanquished Voldemort, then _maybe _there would be time for balls and courting and... marriage. Harry chuckled at the foreign word, then blushed. Why did every bride he imagine have a shock of red hair? He shook his head of the ridiculous notion. Like the Weasleys would ever-

_No. Stop._

Harry sighed, repeating the _I'm the Chosen One and I can't have a girlfriend to distract me right now_ mantra.

_Merlin, life sucks._

oOo

The morning of September the first found Grimmauld Place in chaotic uproar.

"Ron, Harry, got your trunks?" Mrs. Weasley shouted inquiringly from in the hallway. Of course, the plump matriarch didn't dawdle in that room for long. She was quite harried, bustling around the manor frantically in search of misplaced robes, books, cauldrons (how Ron managed to lose his was an enigma in itself), and the like.

"Got 'em!" the two called back, lugging the aforementioned chests and other pieces of luggage down the stairs. Harry grunted. His trunk felt stuffed to maximum capacity, and the boy yearned for the ability to perform magic. _Only a few more hours_... A lightening charm would've saved him _so _much back pain! The seeker was also discovering that Hedwig and her cage were burdening him down... Ron was lucky he had little Pig! The scarred teen settled on shifting it between arms undecidedly. The owl was beginning to aggravate him slightly; she had done nothing but squawk the whole morning.

"Mum, I can't find my dress robes!" Ginny whined in complaint from the top of the banister. Mrs. Weasley appeared carrying a basket of school robes, freshly laundered.

"Well they're not in this pile, so check your room again. And lower the volume!" she reprimanded, but her heeds were paid no mind. Within minutes, the portrait of Mrs. Black had awakened and the house was filled with her banshee-like threatening.

_"Mudbloods and blood traitors! Dirty scoundrels, tainting my house! My Pure-blooded honor!" _

The pandemonium in the house only increased as the children tried to talk over the exclamations of the old hag, sparring with one another over missing possessions.

"For Merlin's sake... Arthur, would you kindly SHUT UP Mrs. Black?" Mrs. Weasley asked forcefully. "Arthur?... ARTHUR!"

Mr. Weasley appeared in the hall mere seconds later, mopping his sweaty brow.

"Right on it, dear!" the balding father reassured, hurrying upstairs to accomplish his assigned task. He just barely dodged a red-faced Hermione, who was suffering with her load. She had extra due to her assortment of heavy textbooks she always carried around. Harry and Ron bounded up the stairs noisily to aid her, just as Ginny tottered by with her recovered dress robes and a few other knick-knacks.

"The train's leaving in an hour! Come on, come on, quicker!" Mrs. Weasley screeched, on the verge of panic. She looked out the window and shrieked, her renewed yells taking over where Mrs. Black had left off. Mr. Weasley groaned, wishing there was a way he could silence his wife as well. Unfortunately, no curtain could subdue _that_ woman.

"_The Ministry cars are here_! Everyone, pack your things into the car and let's GO!" she exclaimed. Harry obeyed immediately; slow death was one of the repercussions of disobeying a hysterical Mrs. Weasley. Everyone knew her wrath was not to be trifled with. He also glanced out the window, noticing the arrival of shiny black cars now stationed outside, on the other side of the street. Of course they were here because of him...

oOo

They reached King's Cross at ten to eleven, the station absolutely overflowing with tourists, travelers, and late Hogwarts students alike. Train whistles blew; people called loudly to each other from opposite platforms in bids of farewell. Harry dearly wished he could just cover his ears and be enveloped in silence, sinking into it like a raindrop does in water.

The small group of misfits, with their excessive luggage and squawking pets, stopped short of the barrier Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Mrs. Weasley ceased their ambling with impatient hand flapping. They all paused, waiting until they could shoot through the wall undetected and unseen. Harry took this time to observe the people passing by, so wrapped up in their trivial travel plans. He felt a little bad for them in their ignorance- who knew another world lay just beyond Platform 9? Or that a brick wall, when tapped right, opened up to reveal Diagon Alley, the wizarding equivalent of London?

Harry shifted now. People were beginning to give them odd, furtive looks. He suddenly realized how foolishly absurd they must appear, especially him with his caged owl going crazy in antsy captivity. An officer approached them, no doubt sharing the same ludicrous assumptions as those around him.

"You lost?" he questioned, thick British accent nearly taking over his voice. Mrs. Weasley gave a warm, plausible laugh.

"Of course not! Just waiting for a friend," she lied earnestly. The officer shrugged, accepting the answer given. He tipped his hat and moved off. Immediately, Mrs. Weasley's face darkened in annoyance.

"Nosy Muggles," she muttered, crinkling her nose. A large throng of tourists had traipsed in front of them, chattering animatedly in a very aimable way. They blocked the witches and wizards from sight, and none seemed very interested in their presence. Harry could hear one asking if Big Ben was nearby, and how long the car ride to see Stonehenge would be.

"Now!" Mrs. Weasley whispered, darting through the barrier and disappearing. Ginny went next, and Hermione followed quickly. Harry and Ron went at it at a run, bolting through in a sensation rather like riding by Floo powder. Harry was always tentative about passing through the wall, as he'd had bad experiences with it before. Smashing headlong into a brick wall was no fun, Harry thought wryly.

It was as if they had entered a world of vibrant color; this world was more real to Harry than the Muggle one ever would be. It was his home; his sanctuary. Harry wished he could enter into conversations around him about Hogwarts, magic, and new spells after so long away from his school. He glanced around, noticing the many familiar faces of those classmates still milling around. However, Mrs. Weasley was ushering them onto the Hogwarts Express, and he was forced to comply with her demands.

The rest of the students slowly paraded onto the train, and soon after the clock chimed eleven. Without hesitation or further ado, the train whistle blew shrilly. Last second students hopped aboard, giggling madly at their antics while pleading the fifth with frazzled parents. Gradually, the station began to pass by as the train starting inching down the track, smoke billowing from the conductor's roof. Harry stuck his head out the window along with the other Weasleys and Hermione. Mrs. Weasley waved furiously.

"Be good, you lot! Stay safe and _stay out of trouble_!" The last words were more 'death threat' than anything. Ron just rolled his eyes.

"Us? Trouble?" he chuckled. "You'd think we go off chasing basilisks or Sorceror's Stones every year, the way that woman behaves!"

Everyone laughed. They watched the plump figure of Mrs. Weasley- now blowing hysterical kisses- grow smaller and smaller, until she was but a speck on the horizon. The train picked up speed and rounded a corner, where green hillsides invaded their vision. Harry turned his back on the window.

"I'll go get us a free compartment, " he said, preparing to beat those with similar ideas. The train was suddenly fraught with slamming doors and exuberant laughter. Hermione grabbed Harry's arm before he could get out of their propinquity.

"No, no, Harry! Being Quidditch Captain, you're at equal status with prefects!" she stated excitedly. "We have a reserved compartment that you can share with us!"

Ginny, from beside Ron, snorted. "Abandoning me already?"

Harry made to open his mouth, but the red-head cut him off. "Only joking, Harry. S'okay; I promised Luna and Neville my company when you were all gawking at Mum. Enjoy yourselves, oh mighty Quidditch Captain and his prefect minions!" Harry frowned, but Ginny had already winked playfully and evaporated into a cluster of first years ogling their friend's new owl.

"Ron... your sister's-"

"A menace? Tell me something I don't know," Ron sighed, feigning a case of chest pain. "Honestly, I don't understand how either of you can put up with her snide commentary. I've learned it's simpler just to find a few good witty retorts to throw back in her face..."

"Shall we go?" Hermione prompted, when at last Ron had exhausted his list of "suitable-comebacks-to-use-on-dumb-little-sisters". She led them up a couple aisles to a compartment near the front of the train. Harry noticed immediately how comfortable and spacious it was, and grinned at having been deposited in the lap of luxury. It was nice not being cramped against the armrest. He took a seat, looking up at the pair expectantly.

"We just have to perform our duties, then we'll come back, " Hermione chattered, thrilled at the prospect of sharing a private compartment together. Truth be told, last year's odyssey had ended rather badly. Neville's cactus had seen fit to explode puss all over them...

Ron groaned. "Back in a sec, mate," he said before the door shut. Harry directed his attention to the passing scenery, feeling tranquil and content. He contented himself with getting lost in the mirage of colors flickering past the window, currently a lovely shade of viscous periwinkle as they crept over a bridge. The teen was just getting drowsy when the door was flung open, causing a lot of racket as it slid to fully reveal the visitor. Before Harry had even looked up, Ron had thrown himself down on the seat next to Harry, slouching low. Harry, startled, gave a small jump. He'd half-expected Malfoy; the ferret never seemed to let a trip go by without lurking up where he wasn't wanted... Harry told himself he needed to have a talk with the Slytherin about seeking counseling for unhealthy obsessions...

"Jeez," the seeker muttered, but smiled. Hermione entered in a much slower and arguably more dignified manner, then gracefully perched herself across from them.

"I tell you, those first years can't sit still for a nanosecond! _We _weren't like that when we were their age!" Ron complained loudly. Hermione snorted, donning an air of patience that one associated with toddler handling.

"They're just excited, Ron!"

Ron raised an eyebrow skeptically, but his attention was soon diverted by Harry. The boy was rubbing his scar furiously, visage pinched and wary.

"Harry? What's wrong?"

"My scar," Harry answered softly. "It won't stop prickling." Indeed, the old wound was acting up again, and rather painfully. Harry couldn't help but feel uneasy. Voldemort was happy about something; something was going according to his plan... And that was particularly unnerving, because Harry was benighted when it came to _why_. He expressed these concerns to Ron and Hermione, and they responded exactly how he expected them to.

Ron went milky, staring at Harry for a few seconds before gazing forebodingly out at the forest whipping by.

"But what's he planning?" Hermione queried nervously, nibbling saturninely on a fingernail. Harry could see her mind whirring, and though the question was rhetorical, he answered anyway.

"I don't know. Whatever it is, it can't be good."

**BAM!**

The whole train lurched sideways on the track following this gunshot of a noise, and Harry found himself desperately holding onto the seat so as to forgo sliding. The impact seemed to be the breaking point of his nerves- he was suddenly edgy; nervous; panicked. Hermione, meanwhile, let out a scream and Ron sat up straight; alert.

"Bloody hell!" he exclaimed. Chilling screams from farther down the train rent the air, and Harry jumped out of his seat. He was almost to the door when-

**BANG!**

The world erupted again, and Harry was knocked back onto the seat as the train gave another alarming sway. The boy could just imagine an invisible hand, bent on tipping the Hogwarts Express over and sending it careening off its intended path... Harry stood up again, wand in hand. Hermione grabbed his upper arm, eyes wide and terrified.

"Don't do it... don't go out there, Harry! You don't know what's going on- what if this is a siege by Voldemort?" she pleaded frantically. Harry ripped his arm out of her vice-grip.

"People could be hurt!" he half-shouted.

"But he _wants_ you to come to him! That's how he _works_, Harry!" Hermione wailed, blinded by tears. "You'll be walking into a trap!"

"I don't care, I've got to help!" Without another word, he pushed open the door and snuck out into the Express' corridor, wand stiff in his fist.

Hermione moaned, fingernails clawing at her face in anxiety. "Oh no, oh no..."

Ron dragged her up and the two followed Harry, coming up behind him. The Boy-Who-Lived looked back, and some reassurance infiltrated his forced composure. His friends were there, right beside him like always... He gave a tiny smile at their show of loyalty, then pressed a finger to his lips. The pair nodded, and all focused their attention on the door leading to the students' cars. Beyond there was panicked shuffling; reverberating moans and grunts. They had no way of knowing until the last moment whether the quarry was to be friend or foe... After a moment's reluctant hesitation, Harry wrenched open the only thing obscuring their presence.

A fearsome scene met the Golden Trio's eyes.

Two young Death Eaters held hostage three extremely scared third years, and they had the whimpering, trembling children backed into the corner. One of the captives, a sandy-haired boy who was in the forefront, seemed to be guarding the other two females with his body. All bore visible battle wounds, ranging from bleeding cuts to an enchantment that made one's legs dance sporadically. A blonde girl was holding close the jerky-appendage and overall smaller one, whispering soothingly in her ear. Harry could still hear faint moans from compartments nearby, and realized with rage that these two devotees of Voldemort had injured other students as well. He surmised it was all in the effort to get to him, but maybe these brave third years (Hufflepuffs, as the emblem emblazoned across their robes informed Harry) had blocked them passage... he couldn't say...

With a rush of perception that took only a second to form, it dawned on Harry how these men had gotten onto the train undetected. Dumbledore wasn't stupid enough that he'd leave his students to journey unprotected, but that didn't account for the Platform itself... and the teen with a lightning bolt on his forehead could clearly see the Hogwarts robes hanging off the shoulder of one of the Death Eaters.

_They impostered Seventh Years_! Harry concluded grimly. _And no one suspected them because no one believed __Voldemort_ _foolish enough to send his minions onto the_ Hogwarts Express _of all places_...

It was impossible to tell who they were, masks made sure of that, but it was obvious Voldemort hadn't spared his elder members for this mission. No doubt the Dark Lord hadn't much faith in the possibility of success... _and for good reason_, Harry thought fiercely.

"Impedimenta!"

He heard rather than saw Ron and Hermione fire similarly, though with Expelliarmus and Reducto.

"Protego... STUPEFY!" Two red curses flew at them, cast with formidable agility if the Death Eaters had managed to parry the offending spells as well. As the incarnadine jets sped toward the three, Harry shouted:

"GET DOWN!" From reflexes born of pure seeker skill, Harry lunged at his friends and yanked them to the floor. The Stunning Curses flew by overhead, just barely skimming the tops of their heads. It had been close- too close. The crimson exploded against the door behind them and blew it off its hinges.

Instantly, an altercation between the sixth year Gryffindors and the Death Eaters was engaged. The trio moved into action, darting off in different directions so each individual was harder to hit. Harry rolled into the corner, trying to keep the Death Eaters' focus on him rather than the others. He jumped up, flicking his wand furiously and sending any hex that came into his brain at the dark-robed assailants. Harry heard Hermione alternate between yelling spells and consoling the wounded third years. He noticed a shimmering green mist in front of the kids, and inwardly praised his friend's foresight. Ron, on the other hand, was taking advantage of the Death Eater's divided attention and started firing at their backs. It finally came down to Ron and Hermione facing off against the first servant of Voldemort, while Harry busied himself with the second. Flashes of multicolor lights ricocheted around the room. One just missed Harry, and he had to twist unnaturally to escape it- a green one. The boy gulped, instantly recognizing the hue as Avada Kedavra. Innocent lives were at stake now, and Harry knew he would feel immeasurable guilt if anyone was killed- _especially _Ron or Hermione. He had led them into this, after all, and the Death Eaters were only here for him. Why else would this ambush have been staged? Harry realized why he'd felt Voldemort's gloating happiness earlier.

One of the Hufflepuff girls, the blonde, suddenly screamed. Harry was yanked unpleasantly from his battle reverie. He glanced quickly to the side, and a red haze of anger and fright descended over his eyes. "Ron! Hermione!"

Hermione was nursing a bad case of fungus sprouting all over her face, and she cried out as the ugly yellow marring her complexion popped welts onto her eyelids, effectively blinding the girl. Ron was on the ground, fighting off a leg-lock. The other Death Eater had gone back to the children, Harry saw in infuriation, and was Cruciating the aforementioned flaxen. She screamed, writhing around in torment and agony as her peers pleaded for mercy.

"Hey, you big dolt! I'm over here! _Stupefy_! _Diffindo_!" Harry shot spell after spell at the pair of cronies desperately, barely able to keep track of them as they circled the ebony-head menacingly. Ron and Hermione were forgotten, but Harry trusted (or he _hoped_, at least) that Ron had enough wits about him to _Finite Incantatem_ his and Hermione's problems away...

One Death Eater advanced on him, blocking Harry's attempts easily, like batting away an irritating fly. Harry soon realized in a wave of anguish that it was futile. The wand of the Death Eater stopped right against his panting chest, pointed straight at the Wizarding World savior's heart.

"Surrender, or the children die! Little blondie first!" he threatened. The second Death Eater trained his wand on Ron and Hermione, who apparently had rejoined the fray. _Good job_,_ Ron_, Harry spared in praise, proud at his comrade... All eyes were plastered on Harry. He stared down the Death Eater forcing him into this life or death decision, but really, there was no hesitation on Harry's part... He knew perfectly well what his choice would be, but stalling was the only leverage he had.

"Surrender..."

The second Death Eater jerked his wand so it was aimed at the sobbing girl whose life was in question. "_Avada_-"

"Stop," Harry commanded quietly, drawing down his wand slowly in defeat. There was a crushed look in Harry's emerald orbs; he knew this was it... he'd pretty much just traded his life for hers, but it was going to be for naught... the merciless servants of Voldemort would simply massacre the rest once Harry perished... "I give up; I surrender. Just please, don't hurt her. She's only a child. It's me your master wants." He said it simply; sadly. The little third year began sliding to the floor, trying to muffle a stronger burst of howls issuing out of her mouth. The Death Eaters smiled, exchanging knowing looks of glee and triumph. Hermione gave a distant, choked, dry sob while Ron mouthed words incomprehensibly. Harry looked into the cold blue eyes of the Death Eater confronting him, reminded sickeningly of Dumbledore and how his Headmaster would find Harry's body perhaps hours later, in a ditch somewhere... dead before he even got home to Hogwarts...

"Good boy," the man snickered, in parody of acclamation. "The Dark Lord will be most-"

His words were cut off when the second door panel blasted open on the farther end of the Express. A man stood framed under the rectangular arch, countenance radiating some indistinct aura of power that Harry associated with Dumbledore's anger. His grayish brown hair was whisked to one side, windswept as if the fellow had just sprinted to his destination. His face was somewhere between youthful and old, but there was a rugged handsomeness found chiseled there. Scars from old wounds spoke volumes about his dueling experience, but they were not nearly as gouged as Moody's were. His face shone with vigor, life, and what Harry took as excitement to be fighting in a battle. Much like Sirius used to look, Harry thought sadly. With a magnificent sweep of his wand, the man let loose white light that seemed to pulsate throughout the room. It drew the Death Eater pair towards him, and they begged for leniency, grovelling at the man's feet.

"Please, mercy! _Mercy_! Don't kill us," one whined, shivering. Harry wanted to snort at their cowardice- _surely _they'd seen more than enough wrath from Voldemort that this... nameless hero... failed to scare them?

The man's reply was to spit at their feet angrily.

"Wounding students and provoking a fight with defenseless children? Not on my watch," he sneered. His voice was deep, and had an eerie silkiness that almost-not-quite rivalled Snape's. But then again, something in it triggered memories of Lupin, Harry juxtaposed. The man raised his wand.

"No, _no_! Have mercy!" they moaned, but he paid them no mind. The Hufflepuff who had been under Cruciatus suddenly stirred, trying to get up but instead falling back to the floor. Her classmates rounded on the girl worriedly. Harry frowned; the first Cruciatus was always the worst; it was only after _practice_ (Harry spat the word with disgusted inflection) that one began learning how to endure it. The man, too, also glanced over at the child in concern. The Death Eaters smiled crookedly, and one grabbed the hand of the other, then fumbled in his pocket-

"Sir!" Harry shouted.

But it was too late- with a resounding _pop _and undulation of air, the Death Eaters had portkeyed back to their master.

"Dammit!" Their brown-haired savior cursed wildly, raking a hand through his hair. He looked over at the trio, all in varying degrees of surprise and physical states. Ron was pale, but Hermione looked sickly- _probably aftereffects from the curse, though_, Harry surmised. The fungus had given her a canary complexion Ron hadn't fully been able to rid her of...

"You, you, and you," the man said, pointing to each respective Gryffindor. "Get back in your compartment; it's not safe. This is a teacher's order."

Immediately, Hermione had turned around and was beginning to head back through the gaping hole where their door used to be. Ron looked like he was resisting the urge to snicker as he turned, but the Boy-Who-Lived simply scrutinized the male one last time. A teacher?

"Sir, what about the children...?" Harry began. The teacher shooed him onward.

"I'll take care of them."

oOo

The three Gryffindors seated themselves back down in their seats, immediately launching into conversation.

"Who was that man?" Ron wondered aloud.

"A teacher obviously, Ronald, and my guess is for Defense Against the Dark Arts," Hermione responded exasperatedly, fingering her cheek. She glanced out the window, gnawing on her lower lip and caught in reverie. It was bordering on evening beyond the glass, and soon the sun was going to wane into twilight's embrace.

"Probably," Harry agreed, a little after the fact. He too was filtering through his memories of the battle they'd just- luckily- survived. He tried to laugh. "We do seem to be always in need of one."

His attempt at humor died, and Harry sighed. _Was Ginny okay? What about Neville, Luna, Seamus, Dean_... the list went on. He prayed no one had died (well, okay, _maybe_ Malfoy and his goons wouldn't be so bad, but fat chance of _that_!); that the Death Eaters had mostly ignored his classmates in their desire to head off famous Harry Potter... He was still feeling edgy, and couldn't stop the shaking of his fingers. _Did the Order know? Why hadn't anyone except that teacher shown up?_ "I'm going to contact Remus."

Harry pulled out the tiny, pocket-sized mirror Lupin had fixed on his birthday a month ago; the one Sirius had first given him. For a wild second, Harry almost reconsidered using it, because that involved magic- and then he laughed. Ron and Hermione stared at him oddly, then exchanged looks- no doubt telepathically betting on his sanity.

"S-sorry," Harry answered of their silent query. His chuckling was already fading away. "I just had a moment of stupidity. Thought for a second I was going to get in trouble with the Ministry for using the Enlargement Charm before we were at Hogwarts... Suppose it doesn't matter, anyway. I've already used enough underage magic to land me in Azkaban for a few years, I'd say."

"You know we're allowed to use magic once we're on the Hogwarts Express, right?" Hermione reassured him, raising a brow as she smiled wanly.

"WHAT!?"

"Yeah, it's in-"

"_Hogwarts, A History_," Harry sighed, but Hermione scowled.

"_No_, it's in the Ministerial Laws for Underage Sorcery, line 37," the pedantic replied smoothly, and not without a certain ladling of gloating. "And if you _recall_, I used magic my first year, and so did Ron... or, well, he _attempted_ to (here Ron shot the brunette a glare). No one came banging down the Express' doors to expel or arrest _us_."

"Oh yeah."

Hermione just rolled her eyes and pulled out an Ancient Runes textbook, though Harry could see she wasn't absorbing much. Her distracted eyes kept roving back up to the top of the page.

"Maximus." Harry enlarged the mirror to its normal size, then said clearly: "Remus Lupin."

A second later, Remus Lupin's face appeared anxiously in the place where Harry's tense reflection used to be, looking haggard as ever. "Harry?"

Harry wasted no time in telling Lupin what had happened, watching unnervingly as Lupin's face grew darker and more worried with each gruesome detail. He didn't speak until Harry had finished his recounting.

"This is bad, Harry. Very bad. The Order was not informed whatsoever of an ambush on the Hogwarts Express, not even Dumbledore... the wards didn't react at all."

"I think I know why," Harry said hastily, and he told the werewolf about the Hogwarts robes on the Death Eaters.

Lupin frowned. "I'll pass that on; we'll have to fix that err as soon as possible; oversights like that are deadly. Thank God you're alright, Harry, but I need to leave you so I can contact the Order. Stick close to Ron and Hermione. You may not be out of the deep waters yet. Use the mirror if something else happens- _anything_, you hear me? Order members should arrive soon to patrol the train." Then the mirror went blank, and Harry was left observing his own reflection. He cringed at his shaky pallor, but knew he wasn't the only one- Ron and Hermione looked no better.

No words were spoken the rest of the trip, and nothing else out of the ordinary happened that Harry knew of. The Order must have arrived, and were guarding the train, ensuring a safe final stretch...

But the feeling of ubiquitous anxiety burdened on Harry heavily. Even when he caught sight of the large, looming figure of Hogwarts approaching in the distance, rising from the darkness, he didn't feel relaxed. No one could be truly safe until they entered the hallowed halls of Hogwarts, protected by the teachers and the magical walls that when combined, spelled out sanctuary.

* * *

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Thanks for reading!

**AngelMoon Girl**


	11. Newcomer

I'm back! Thank you, reviewers! I was very happy to see some new people reviewing- my story's spreading... YAY! I'm also very, very, very sorry for the long wait! I had my midterms and was enveloped in studying, which is priority! But I'm really glad to be back!

Big thanks to **hedwig136** and **Gabwr**- these two always review on almost every chapter, and I'm so grateful. You ROCK! Anyways, on with the story and please review!

_Disclaimer_: Despite many elaborate schemes, I still do not own Harry Potter.

**THIS IS THE EDITED CHAPTER 11. **Always look for this note! Always! :-)

**It Ends Now**

Part 11: "Newcomer"

The Hogwarts students departed from the train, dispersing out in different directions. The chattering that normally rung out through the cool, dark evening was replaced by a foreboding silence, full of suspicion and fear. White and trembling countenances sought out the castle's outline, fear etched into the eyes of many a witch and wizard. The last few hours had been marked by chaos, but this one oozed of shock.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione lingered off to one side, mingling in a small crowd of sixth years. They listened to all the rumors flying around about how the Death Eaters had really been driven away after their great ransack. Harry watched with mild humor as one over-eager first year divulged to entranced peers his version of the event, which included howling banshees eating Voldemort's associates after turning them into pumpkins. Others just discoursed on in shock, rambling incomprehensibly about how unsafe Hogwarts was and wondering why no teachers had come to their aid. Harry wanted to snort. _It wasn't as if Voldemort had sent an owl ahead to warn Dumbledore of his plans_. Pulling his attention back to more important matters, Harry scanned the multitudes for the third years who'd been tortured and held prisoner. _Nope... _The professor who had saved the trio was nowhere to be seen either. Harry surmised the man was already up at the Hospital Wing, delivering the kids to Pomfrey's tender mercies.

Harry sighed, queries and suspicions whirling around dizzingly in his brain. _Why was the Order not informed immediately? Had the professor been there the whole time? And if not, how had he known about the attack? Would Dumbledore be able to prevent this oversight in the future?_

Harry felt a sudden tug on his shirt, and looked around at Hermione questioningly.

"We're going up now," she whispered in a strained voice. Harry nodded in reply, noticing she too seemed discomfited. Harry knew how she must feel, worrying about 'what if's, but his anxiety had lessened some. Already, the pressure bearing down on his chest- fear, the sixteen year old realized- was being replaced with that calm feeling Harry got from coming home to the castle.

They headed off in the direction of the carriages, the mysterious thestrals gleaming iridescent against the night sky. Harry shivered as the trio approached the winged creatures that resembled oddly-configured hippogriffs, unpleasantly reminded of the fact that he alone had looked Death in the eye. Before climbing up into the stagecoach to join his friends, Harry glanced into one thestral's pearly, almost translucent eye. A strange sensation swept over his body- drawn deep into their gray depths, Harry watched on disturbed as a green flash of light flew at Cedric Diggory. The image muddied and shifted, now showcasing the dreaded archway room. Harry stared in horror as Bellatrix launched her fatal curse at his godfather. Like a broken record of his nightmares, Sirius was hit full force in the chest, laughter not fully gone from his face as he was lifted into the air and subsequently flung past the Veil. Then Cedric was being murdered-

_Look away, look away! _Harry told himself desperately. He wrenched his eyes away instantly, blinking a few times in the darkness. The ache in his heart returned, then a pain began pounding dully in his eyes. It took Harry a second to realize that his vision was blurry, pleading to release the moisture building up there. He swallowed the lump that had rose up in his throat with difficulty just as Hermione stuck her head out.

"Coming, Harry?"

"Yeah." Harry clambered up into the carriage just as it began pulling away. Clothed in total darkness, he settled onto the seat next to Ron. Fidgeting uncomfortably, the Boy-Who-Lived decided to pull open the blinds and stare up at the heavens. Lights of a thousand stars illuminated the youthful face playfully, though Harry's green eyes were anything but. He simply gazed morosely upward, scoping out various constellations. Leo, the Big Dipper, the Dog Star... Harry's heart gave another pang. Spirits sagging once more, he let the blind fall. The carriage was blanketed in darkness for a second time.

Ron and Hermione had been observing his face flash through different emotions like wildfire. With a nervous throat-clearing, Hermione was the first to break the silence.

"Harry... are you okay?"

Harry looked around quickly, suspicious.

"Why?" his carefully masked voice asked.

Ron answered next. "You've been real quiet the whole way, ever since we got off the train. Something bothering you?"

Harry didn't reply; he wasn't sure he wanted to discuss Sirius or anything related to that subject. Hermione, perceptive girl she was, came to the right conclusion immediately.

"You're thinking about him again, aren't you?" her soft voice nudged gently. A hidden compassion lay behind the words. Harry glanced down, chewing his lip in indecision. Should he answer and broach that wound? He and his friends hadn't talked much about Sirius, mostly due in part to Harry's staunch aversion around the subject.

"I... I guess, a bit. Dumbledore talked to me during the summer, and that helped a lot. But... sometimes the little things..."

"Harry, we know you must feel terribly," Hermione's voice broke in quietly, "but..."

Ron took over. "... But we just wanted to let you know that we'll be there for you through this whole ordeal, and we understand. Whenever you want to talk, we'll be ready to listen."

Harry's heart swelled in immeasurable gratitude. "Thanks," he mumbled. Though the other two couldn't see it, the boy was smiling.

oOo

The carriages halted with a jerk, and students descended their shelter in throngs, beginning the mass parade up to the castle. Talk was beginning to fill the night; slowly, everyone's initial shock was wearing away, fading into comfortable familiarity. They were home; they were safe.

As the wide, grand oak doors opened, Harry's heart leapt, rejoicing over the Hogwarts surroundings. It was such a welcoming feeling to be back in this place! Footsteps and laughing echoed; bouncing off the high ceiling. The large coterie of students moved in unison across the Entrance Hall, flooding into the Great Hall. Harry was trailing Ron and Hermione when he heard his name being called.

"Potter! _Potter_!" Harry turned to find Professor McGonagall beckoning him over to the staircase, First Year duties obviously done.

He trotted over obediently, gracing the old witch with an inquiring, "Professor?"

"I should like to see you in my office for a minute. Not to worry, you're in no trouble," she added at the look on his face. "It will be very quick, as I do not want to delay you from the feast too long." And with that, the Gryffindor Head of House whirled around and began marching up the stairs. Harry followed suit promptly, gesturing to his waiting friends to go on in without him.

As Harry struggled to keep up behind McGonagall- who was taking annoyingly long strides in a gait similar to Dumbledore's- he pondered the reason for this unexpected meeting. Last time, it was to check on his health. Harry certainly hoped this wasn't the case today, but news of the Death Eater ambush had undoubtedly reached her. And then, the boy blushed as he recalled their most recent encounter. He had cried all over her that time, and wasn't keen on rehashing the experience in her presence..._'I mean, doing it in front of Dumbledore is one thing, he's just that type of person, but _McGonagall_... that's just plain embarrassing!'_ Harry thought wildly.

"Hurry up, Potter," McGonagall chided sternly. Harry, realizing he had been dawdling, jogged to resume his position in her wake. The pair stopped upon reaching their destination, and she pushed the door open with a jerk of the head ordering him inward. Tentatively, Harry entered the small room- most of his memories of this office ended with a reprimand or detention. He chose to seat himself down on the wooden chair in front of McGonagall's desk. She, on the other hand, went to stand behind the desk. For a moment, the female professor only regarded him with a swift, searching look.

"Are you alright?" McGonagall finally asked solicitously. "Professor Dumbledore informed me of the attack on the Hogwarts Express, as well as your involvement."

Inwardly, Harry groaned. _Not another repeat of _*_this*! _Surely she wouldn't try to send him to the Hospital Wing like third year? Malfoy would have a _riot_!

"Professor, I'm fine. Really! And I don't need to go to the Hospital Wing either," Harry tacked on desperately. To his surprise, she just chuckled.

"No, Potter, I will not make you go to the Hospital Wing. I daresay you've seen far too much of that place during your schooling here." Harry smiled and nodded back in relieved concurrence. "What I _would_ like to hear is your account of what happened- every little detail is crucial. The Order was not aware of the ambush, so we need all the facts we can procure."

And so, Harry told his story for the second time that night, and by the end was weary with the constant retelling. McGonagall nodded, beady eyes narrowed as she appraised his features and obvious exhaustion.

"Thank you, Potter. Your information is valuable to the Order. You are free to leave now... Ginger Newt?" she offered, indicating the tartan tin of cookies that lay off to the side of her desk. Harry, now bordering on famished, took one gratefully. He then proceeded to slowly make his way down the stairs, munching on the Newt. The biscuits seemed a fancy of hers, much like Dumbledore and his lemon drops. He chuckled- teachers (at least magical ones) had such strange tastes.

oOo

Harry dropped into his usual seat near the end of Gryffindor Table, in between his two friends. Without further ado, they started interrogating him.

"McGonagall just asked me what happened on the train," he answered seriously. "Nothing apocalyptic, guys."

"Oh," Ron responded mildly, maybe even a little disappointed. "I was hoping we might get awards for our bravery, or whatnot."

"Nope. Not even one House Point!" Harry seethed playfully. Ron made a face, then turned back to his food with an eager gleam in his eyes. Harry did the same, hoping to satiate the hungry beast gnawing at his stomach. It seemed forever ago since breakfast! But just as he reached for a piece of mouth-watering chicken, the dinner victuals disappeared to be replaced with the dessert course. Harry pouted, but grabbed a treacle tart nonetheless.

"That's healthy," Ron muttered, rolling his eyes.

"They're my favorite," Harry retorted, sticking his tongue out at the red-head as he stole a couple more. "And you're one to talk!"

Ron just grimaced at him over his second helping of blueberry pie. Hermione made conversation with the boys as she consumed- at a normal pace- her Indian pudding. "You missed the sorting of the new first years, Harry." She inclined her head down the table to a bunch of awed and overwhelmed little kids. Harry remembered his first day at the castle as if it were only yesterday, and was able to relate to how they must feel. The first years were all looking with trepidation at the piles upon piles of food laying before them, as if wondering if they were allowed to eat it and how much.

"Hat say anything new?" Harry asked, tearing his eyes away from the little children. Hermione shrugged.

"It talked about the Houses needing to work together if we are to face our threat open-mindedly," she replied. "I agree; Inter-House unity would be a big advantage for our side if worst came to worst."

"You mean... like an attack on Hogwarts?" Harry elucidated, a painful feeling in his gut. Hermione nodded, but Ron snorted into his dessert.

"The hat is off its rocker! I mean, who knows how long that thing's been around; it's _ancient_," the ginger opined. "It went _on_ and _on _about 'the foes within', 'be wary of your friends', and the need for 'Inter-House unity to defeat the perils we face.' What nonsense! The hat isn't asking Gryffindors to get cozy with Slytherins, is it? And what's all that 'beware your friends' stuff?"

"Obviously it's a warning, Ron. The hat lives with Dumbledore, so it hears and knows all sorts of stuff. It's giving good advice!"

"Whatever," the red-head muttered. They were broken off by the rising of Dumbledore. The wise old Headmaster outstretched his arms warmly, as if trying to embrace the whole room. His brilliant blue eyes blazed with the force of twinkle being emitted.

"Another year has come, soon to be filled with the art of learning, loving, and maturing! Ah, education of young minds is a wonderful thing. But now is not the time for teaching. Now is the time for introductions, warnings, and a bit of peace of mind. This year, we have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. May you all warmly welcome, Professor Livey Piremost!"

The mysterious hero from the train stood up, giving a small bow before sitting down again. Clapping ovation followed, and Harry noticed that Snape was lone among the teachers who gave the Defense professor a nasty glare, albeit with a reluctant twitching that could have been an attempt to clap. He nudged Ron.

"It's him!"

"Quiet, please," Dumbledore called, for much scattered whispering had ensued in response to the new teacher. Instantly, the Great Hall fell quiet. "There are a few other announcements I would like to make. Firstly, I am sure everyone has, by now, heard of the incident on the Hogwarts Express- or at least fragments of it."

Dead silence filled the air; a pin drop would have reverberated cacophonously around the Hall. All were hanging on to Dumbledore's every word like starving children in need of satiation.

"Eight students were injured in the course of action, and all are currently being tended to by Madam Pomfrey. I must ask you not to press them for details, as to some the experience was mildly traumatic. The attack on the Hogwarts Express is an example; an example of a small piece of the terror that lays beyond these walls. It shows to us the ever-growing need for acceptance; for tolerance. The dire necessity of unity... For without these, there is no chance of defeating Lord Voldemort (he ignored the flinches and gasps that rippled through the crowd). I shall repeat the words our Sorting Hat so excellently gave us: 'Divided we fall, united we stand'. To those who fought back on the train, I commend your bravery. I have heard many stories about students who took on the Death Eaters in an attempt to protect their peers. They are the epitome of all the Sorting Hat praised in humankind's resilience. I thank you with fifty points to each house," Dumbledore said, bowing lightly at the waist. "I would also like to reassure the student body that precautions have been taken to ensure an attack of this kind never occurs again. I am deeply sorry to any who suffered on account of my oversight, and I take fully the blame for this egregious err."

For a few seconds, no one moved as the light in Dumbledore's eyes dimmed. He seemed to be staring apologetically at everyone in turn. Harry shivered when the Headmaster met eyes with him, dearly wishing for the dead look in those blue eyes to leave. He was mollified when the twinkling reignited.

"And now, our regular announcements. Once again, Mr. Filch..."

Harry stopped listening at this point; he could barely count on two hands how many times Filch had goaded Dumbledore into reading aloud a list of tabooed items. It seemed every year the number bred rapidly... He turned to his friends.

"So, Professor Piremost is our new teacher," Harry stated contemplatively. "I sure hope he isn't like Umbridge."

Ron waved a nonchalant hand. "If he is, we'll just throw him to the centaurs."

Even Hermione laughed at that.

oOo

That night, Harry lay in his familiar four-poster bed, listening to the loud snores of his roommates as he stared at the royal maroon hangings. Another term had begun, bringing with it all the ups and downs of the teenage years- and not to mention a fresh ladling of danger to boot. It hadn't taken long for Ron and Hermione to return to their usual bickering, this time over proper prefecting practices. Harry rolled over, sighing and closing his eyes.

One of these days, Ron or Hermione was simply going to kill the other. That, or snog them senseless. It was hard to say.

Harry smirked at the image, drifting off into oblivion.

Oh, it was wonderful to be home.

* * *

Hope this chapter was worth the wait. The next one will be a bit more exciting emotionally. Stay tuned :)

Review, please!

**AngelMoon Girl**


	12. Discoveries

A/N: Thank you to all my reviewers! Reading a review is so much fun :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; I'm only borrowing it from JK Rowling! Please don't sue me (sniff sniff). All I got is this story idea! Besides, does my story look like a JK Rowling work? I thought not!

**It Ends Now**

Part 12: "Discoveries"

Ron hit Harry full-force in the face with a pillow, jerking the teen abrubtly awake.

"Whazzat?" he exclaimed groggily, feeling for his glasses with unseeing hands. He found them and stuck the spectacles onto his face. Harry squinted as the bright sun of the morning became more distinct.

"Classes, Harry! You can't sleep in when we have Snape first period!" Ron laughed, shoving on his robes.

"WHAT?" Harry yelped, flying out of bed. Ron seemed to laugh even harder, face a beautiful shade of plum as he tried to catch his breath.

"Only joking, mate! You're so gullible in the mornings! We're going to get our schedules at breakfast this morning. Can you believe Hermione was up at 5'o clock this morning in anticipation? She's already down there!"

Harry just groaned- it was too early for this. He threw the discarded pillow back at Ron.

"You'd better just hope I don't have Snape first period or I _will _be cranky!" Harry threatened unjokingly, giving Ron a slightly dirty look. Then he smiled. "And I can't believe 'Mione's down there either!"

"Well, just get a move on. You slept in a little late," Ron said, going to the door.

"Yah, but I was up thanks to _someone _I know," Harry grumbled, making his bed. Ron chuckled.

"What would you do without me?" Before Harry could return a witty retort, Ron was gone.

"See you at breakfast!" his voice called, then all was silent. Harry began pulling on his robes, in a sudden cheery mood. He entered the Great Hall feeling very much awake and refreshed.

"Morning!" cheerily greeeted Hermione, who was reading a copy of the Daily Prophet. The newspaper was propped up against the orange juice jug. The brainy girl herself was eating eggs. "Sleep well?"

"Mm-hmm." Harry pulled a bowl of porridge towards him.

"Do you know when McGonagoll's due to hand out our new schedules?" Ron asked, glancing over at Hermione and implying that the question was directed at her. She set down the orange juice she had been sipping and licked her lips thoughtfully. With a shrug, she replied:

"Don't know. All I gather is that it'll be _after _breakfast."

The end of breakfast came quick, and soon Professor McGonagoll was moving from student to student down the Gryffindor table, handing out each's new schedule. Harry took his with a 'thanks', then glanced down it... No Snape first period, at least! Ron and him compared eachother's, like they had with O.W.L. results.

"Great! We've got all our classes together, Harry! Except Snape. I don't have him anymore, since I'm not in N.E.W.T," Ron stated with a content sigh. He looked at Harry in euphoria, and a slightly mocking look. "Poor you... anyways, lemme see yours, Hermione." Hermione handed her rather elongated schedule to him. Ron broke into a grin.

"Well, the famous trio still has first, second, and third periods together! Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, and Charms!"

Part of Harry felt a little dejected that he could not have Ron in his Potions anymore, especially to be a consolation source when Snape got rough. Together, they would mock the greasy git behind his back, which felt quite satisfying after Snape had just done the same thing. At least he wouldn't be completely alone; Hermione was taking the course as well and they shared the class (which, most irritatingly, would be a double period today). However, the one fault about the girl was that she refused to insult teachers, even Snape (although she was much more lenient about letting it slide when it came to him).

"Harry Potter?"

Harry turned in his seat, face-to-face with a second year. The little boy looked nervous and was blushing profusely.

"Here, I was told to give this to you." He stuffed a rolled up parchment into Harry's hand, his own hands shaking. Then the kid scampered away. Ron watched him leave in humored revulsion. Harry, meanwhile, turned his attention to the scroll he held. In curly, well-formed letters, it read:

_Harry Potter_

Instantaneously, Harry recognized the fine handwriting as Professor Dumbledore's. Ron and Hermione did too, having seen the writing form many times before in other notes to Harry or in general.

"Open it!" they eagerly demanded, full of curiosity. Harry needed no prompting, he was even more interested than they were! He unfurled the note carefully.

_Dearest Harry,_

_As I informed you over the summer, I should like to continue on with your Occlumency lessons. Please come to my office every Monday night at 8:00pm, in which we shall diligently work until 9:00pm (curfew for sixth years). Kindly only tell Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley- inform no one else. We shall begin tonight._

_Always Yours Sincerely,_

_Professor Dumbledore_

_P.S. Lemon drops are the key to life's doors._

Ron snorted. " 'Lemon drops are the key to life's doors'? What the heck does that mean? Talk about mental." Harry shook his head.

"No, no; I get it. The 'key' to the 'door'- he's saying 'lemon drop' is the key to open the door... it's the password!"

"Tricky," Ron responded in a slightly bored tone of voice. It turned more excited though as he continued. "So, you're doing Occlumency with him? Cool! It'll be a right side better than with _Snape_." Harry agreed, pocketing the note. Hermione tugged his and Ron's sleeves.

"Come on, we'll be late for Defense Against the Dark Arts!" she admonished chastisingly. They followed her to the classroom, not knowing what to expect of this newcomer.

The trio took seats at the back of the room just as Professor Livey Piremost entered. He smiled delicately at the class before him, vaguely nervous. His stature and edginess made Harry feel some sense of deja vu, but he had no clue from where. The Professor's green eyes glittered oddly, reminding Harry of Snape's own gleaming black ones.

"Good morning, class," he greeted in his deep voice.

"Good morning, Professor Piremost," the class chanted back in unison. However, the Professor just shook his head obstinately.

"Please, call me Professor Livey. I am not fond of my surname," he instructed. The class nodded as one, but Harry saw on many faces a look of dubious perplexion, even disbelief. No teacher had ever asked such a thing; it was like Snape asking to be called 'Professor Severus'! Harry glanced over at Hermione, who held a look that clearly said she felt like doing no such thing, probably thinking it disrespectful and unthinkable. But, all ended up complying- a teacher's wishes were law.

After the short silence that followed his request, Professor Livey continued. "In this class, we will master the art of dueling, as well as acquire many new defensive spells. Along with this, we will do much notetaking on the aspect and theories of defense against the Dark Arts. Today is to be an informative class in which we shall learn the derivation of defense theory and an overview of Dark Arts through the ages. Quills out, please." Professor Livey began scribbling down information on the board amidst many groans. Ron's was among the loudest.

"This guy's turning even more into a male version of Umbridge every second!" he complained, pulling out his notebook and quill quite reluctantly.

"Well, he isn't _completely_," Hermione cajoled to Ron, trying to keep on the optimistic side. "I mean, at least we'll be doing _some_ spellcasting. We'll get to duel!" Ron still felt pessimistic, but he turned to Harry and smiled, poking his friend in the shoulder.

"You'll ace the duels, Harry! You're top dueler in our class!" Harry blushed modestly, shaking his head in disagreement.

"Oh, I'm not _that _good. There's probably loads of people who could beat me!"

"Harry, stop being humble! You've dueled _Voldemort_; fighting a sixth year is no sweat compared to him!" Hermione reasoned. Harry just pursed his lips, not wanting to push the subject further as he pulled out his notebook. They'd had this conversation last year... I mean, didn't they understand that it was just pure luck? If help hadn't come right at the nick of time, then he wouldn't be sitting there that very moment.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next few classes passed on quite uneventfully, the teachers just giving an overview or lecture of what they'd be doing and learning that year. All too soon, N.E.W.T. Potions had arrived, which happened to be the class Harry was least looking foward to. As he stood in the queue line with Hermione, millions of doubts and questions swirled around in his head. He felt very nervous about this class, and had a sneaking suspicion that he was not at all as advanced as he had originally thought himself to be. Harry felt as if he would not be good enough. Why on earth had he chosen to continue on with _Snape_ again? Harry suddenly remembered that this would help him on the way to fufilling his ambition of being an auror, even if it meant dealing with the Snape for two more years.

But as the dark-haired Potions Master came gliding down the dungeon hallway at them; narrowed eyes glaring daggers and venom, black robes billowing out behind him; Harry suddenly had a fleeting thought that he'd rather be a bloody caretaker or some other miniscule occupation than face two more years with this greasy git. But then Snape was upon them, ushering all into his dark, dank classroom, and Harry's mind shut down.

The dungeon door slammed shut, echoing loudly around the totally silent classroom. No one ever dared to speak and push Snape's fragile and volatile limits. Harry and Hermione were seated once again in the way back, trying to be as far away from Snape as humanly possible. However, due to the decreased number of students now, there wasn't much distance between the back table and the inscrutable man currently sweeping up to the front of the room,obsidian orbsglittering dangerously as he observed his pupils.

"Sooo... I see some infantile numbskulls have decided to return..." Snape's eyes swept over the room, lingering on Harry a fraction longer in loathing passion. The boy felt his whole being burn hate right back at the man. No, being an auror was definitely not worth this torture. Harry dearly wished he could exchange this class for something else more docile, but now it was too late to turn back. He centered his attention back on Snape (with difficulty).

"In this class," the man was saying, "we shall continue on with the divine art of Potions brewing at a more complex and higher level. Hopefully, this will not be too hard for some of our..._less _gifted peers... I will give out more homework, which I expect to be done promptly by the next class unless otherwise instructed. Any violators shall receive detention with me for a _week_." Harry resolved to do his Potions homweork every night, knowing his consistency as a procrastinator (at least he wasn't as bad as Ron!). "For those who managed to get in this class with pure skill rather than luck (Snape's eyes moved to Draco Malfoy and gave him a very small smile that the blonde returned smugly), then you are in a better position than the...others... (the eyes roved back to Harry contemptously). Questions?" Without waiting for anyone to raise their hand, he said, "Good. Let us begin."

Snape flicked his wand casually in a lazy manner and the board immediately was full of difficult instructions.

"Today, you are required to aduequately produce a Dreamless Sleep Potion_.Some _of you have had much experience in the use of this mixture," Snape malevolently smirked at Harry. The boy kept his face quite neutral, despite the odd looks his classmates were giving him. Harry didn't want to give Snape the pleasure of showing reaction. In his head, he vehemently cursed his Potions professor. However, this savage pleasure didn't last long as he had to unfortunately (once again)return his attention back to the teacher.

"Your instructions are on the board. Begin now; no talking unless it is your wish that your House be cost points on the first day. No doubt some will be on the receiving end, as usual..."

Harry struggled to make the Dreamless Sleep Potion, sweating profusely and nervous. He could feel Snape's eyes boring into his steaming cauldron constantly (which was an emerald green color, matching his eyes). The git was always able to find some fault, which truthfully was caused by himself- if he wasn't constantly hanging over Harry menacingly, then the boy would be able to produce a substantial potion for once! The O.W.L. results had proved that.

"Your potion is all wrong, Potter. It should now be progressing to Stage 2, and should be a light blue color. No doubt you added too much crushed powder root of asphadel," Snape criticized dangerously, observing Harry hatefully because of the long-held grudge as he looked down his long, crooked nose. Harry bit back a retort and kept on working. If only Snape wasn't constantly berating and belittling him, then maybe his bloodypotion _would_ have progressed to damned Stage 2! Harry's anger broiled inside him like hot fire, ready to erupt any second. Lucky, Snape became bored and moved on to regard other's in that condescending way of his.

Hermione looked at Harry with an angry expression on her face. She checked to make sure Snape was out of earshot, then hissed to Harry sympathizing and complainedly. "He's so cruel, saying that about yours! Even mine is coming out all wrong. We shouldn't be doing such a complex potion so early on; even professed Potions masters have trouble with this elixir!" Snape's extra-sensitive ears picked up on Hermione, and she shut up as he stalked over. However, it was too late.

"Miss Granger, I'm ashamed. Whispering instructions to fellow peers _again_? Potter must suffer on his own, lest he will never learn how to do the potion correctly," Snape scolded unjustly. Harry scowled, wanting to make his professor understand.

"But sir-"

"Do not interrupt me, Potter. You are not included in this conversation and therefore have no excuse for butting in. Is your arrogant ego so big that you must cut in on conversations just to get attention? Five points for you insolence, Potter. And Granger, take another five. Not everyone enjoys your Know-It-All attitude," Snape sneered. Both Hermione and Harry mouthed wordlessly in fury, mouths opening and closing in dumbfounded shock. How dare he? Harry fought for control as Snape swished away smugly.

"Damn you," Harry swore under his breath, livid. Hermione didn't even acknowledge it; she herself was too flustered and could only agree.

At last, class ended as the welcoming bell rang. Snape bid the class to set their potions thus far on his desk. "Let's see how imbecile your work turned out." Harry put his on the desk and turned around, bracing himself... there was a loud noise from behind the boy, and he gave a crooked smile and turned around, laughing inwardly at Snape's venemous-looking face. On the floor, unbroken and intact, lay his potion. Harry picked it up and set it back on the desk.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Professor. Did I say I put an Unbreakable Charm on my bottle?" Harry leered, giving a devilish grin. If possible, Snape's face grew even more riddled with hate. Harry whirled around and left the room before he lost anymore points for Gryffindor. He knew his enduration had been worth it, just for that one moment of triumph. He had learned from last year's mistakes, that was for sure.

Harry made his way to lunch alone, Ron and Hermione having gone ahead as he provoked Snape. The boy basked in happiness for having made that come back. Served the greasy git right! Harry's happiness only heightened as he turned a corner and ran into a very familar somebody.

"Remus!"

"Harry!" Harry flew into his father and godfather's best friend's arms, overjoyed.

"How are you? I didn't know you were here!" Remus Lupin grinned broadly.

"I'm actually on duty. Dumbledore wanted some Order members patrolling Hogwarts in case the need arose for action," Remus informed his young friend. "And today's my day on duty!" Harry nodded, still in disbelief.

"This is really great, Remus! So is that what you're doing for the Order then?"

"Sort of. I alternate between Hogwarts duty and trying to accumulate followers for Dumbledore among the werewolves."

"Werewolves?" Harry questioned.

"Some are in the service of Voldemort, who's trying to get as many on his side as he can. He uses things like promises, bargaining, blackmail, and just plain out saying he'll kill them and their families if they don't obey him. Others are indesicive. They were good people once, and a lot don't want to be in the service of the Dark Lord. My job is to push them in the direction of the Light," Remus said. The bell rang for a second time, and up above, sounds of many feet and talking reached the conversing friends.

"I'm supposed to be at lunch right now, but I'll see you around, right?" Harry asked, trying to not show emotion so as to sway Remus if he had other things to do. But a little bit of hope leaked through and it shown in Harry's eyes, as did some of the yearning he felt, in his voice. Remus patted Harry on the shoulder, showing unseen caring and protectiveness. This was his little "cub", the only part of James left in this world.

"Of course, Harry. Hurry off now," Remus reassured genially. Harry nodded and did as told. Remus rounded another corner and disappeared from sight. Harry started up the stairway that would take him to the Entrance Hall. However, he hadn't even gone four steps up when searing pain ignited in his scar. Harry cried out at the unexpectedness of it all, dropping his books that flopped down the stairs. His footing faltered as he missed the step he had been about to take. With another startled exclaimation, Harry feel backwards, arms flailing as he desperately tried to grab hold of something. He fell onto his back hard on the cold, stone floor of the dungeons hallway, stars erupting in front of his eyes.

Dazedly gathering up his breath, Harry pulled himself up using the wall as support. He could only pull himself up halfway due to the jarring pain in his middle back, making his breathing hard. The pain in his scar was receding, but a nauseaous feeling in the pit of his stomach had replaced it. A sudden sick feeling came over Harry, and it rose to his throat. The boy vomited, emptying all the contents of his stomach. He gave a few last dry heaves, nothing else coming up. Harry wiped his mouth, disgusted. Waving his wand, he vanished the puddle on the floor away, making it just as spotless as when Harry had arrived. He stood there, panting and trying to regain calm. Finally, he felt a little better and with a wince began gathering up his belongings and books on the floor. Then he slowly took the rest of the stairs up into the Entrance Hall and then into the Great Hall, letting the sick feeling leave him gradually.

Ron and Hermione were instantly upon him.

"Harry, where were you? Are you OK?"

"You look real pale, mate! What happened?" Harry hushed them, not wanting to have all of Gryffindor Table watch his two friends go hysterical.

"I'm OK. My scar hurt after Potions and I...well... I sortafelldownthestairs," Harry mumbled at an alarmingly fast rate, feeling his face redden with the sheepish sounding-ness of it.

"YOU FELL-"

"Shh!" Harry warned, clamping a hand over Ron's big mouth at his exclaimation. "Please, I'd rather the whole school _not _know, thanks." He released his hand.

"Sorry," Ron genuinly apologized.

"Could you infer the reason as to why it hurt?" Hermione asked smartly. Harry tried to collect the bits and pieces of what he felt during the lapse of pain.

"Voldemort was happy- really happy. Something good had just happened; an attack or something..." Harry suddenly felt a warm hand resting on his shoulder, and he looked up into the lined, yet powerful aged face of Professor Dumbledore. He looked unusually somber- the crystal blue eyes were devoid of their usual twinkle, filled with a grave look.

"Are you alright, Harry?" the Headmaster asked concernedly. "You don't look well."

"Yes, sir. I'm fine. But Voldemort's really happy about something," Harry informed. The Headmaster looked neither surprised nor moved by this statement.

"Yes, that would seem so," was his slightly enigmatic response. He looked over at Hermione. "Miss Granger, would you mind stepping into the hall with me? There is something we must discuss." Hermione's brows creased in confusion.

"Alright," she complied, nonplussed. The girl got up and followed the Headmater out of the Great Hall. Ron turned to Harry, just as perplexed.

"What's this all about?" Harry shrugged, looking down at his food. The feeling of nausea was suddenly renewed, and Harry found it hard just to _look _at the meal laid before him. He wasn't even remotely hungry, and there was an unnerving feeling in his stomach, like a gnat that wouldn't go away.

"It's free period next, right? I think I'm going to take a rest then," Harry stated, feeling fatigued and wanting to rest his aching back. Ron fully understood, and bid Harry goodbye as the boy went up to the dormitory wearily.

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The next few classes after that just flew by for Harry, and by dinner he felt rejuvinated and invigorated. However, Hermione wasn't at dinner that night, and the two boys missed her in her absence.

"Where _has _that girl gotten to?" Ron questioned, an edge of humor lacing his voice. "If she's skipping eating just to got to the library or do homework or some other mental thing like that, then I'm going to sit down and have a talk with that girl!" Harry laughed, but his spirits just weren't in it. Maybe Ron didn't feel like anything was wrong, but Harry did. The uneasy knot in his stomach didn't leave, it only tightened as Harry wondered where his friend had gone.

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When 8:00pm rolled around, Harry was found standing in front of the stone gargoyle, the secret entrance to Professor Dumbledore's office. It was time for Harry's second Occlumency lesson with the Headmaster.

"Lemon drop," Harry said clearly to the scultpture. The gargoyle suddenly leapt to life and sprang up from its plinth. Then it jumped to the side, permitting Harry passsage and revealing a long, winding spiral staircase. The boy bounded up the stairs two at a time in ill-concealed excitement, then knocked on the great, wooden door.

"Come in, Harry!" Professor Dumbledore's voice beckoned cheerily. Harry pushed opened the door, and with a creak revealed the room's wise occupant. The Headmaster greeted him fondly.

"Hello, sir," Harry returned kindly. He seated himself in front of the desk and was met with a smile. Dumbledore's eyes roved over his frame, searching swiftly and showing relief.

"You are looking much better than last time I saw you," Dumbledore intoned conversationally.

"I took a rest in my free period, and I do feel a lot better," Harry replied, inclining his head ever-so-slightly.

"Good, good," Dumbledore said happily, bringing the tips of his fingers together meditatively. The usual twinkle had returned, as had the old man's calm, easy-going demeanor and benign smile. "As you know, we will be practicing your Occlumency every Monday night. It is crucial Voldemort _not_ have access to your mind, so therefore you must build up your internal defensive skills. Do you remember what we discussed in the summer?" Harry dug deep in his mind, scouring up the wanted information.

"You said that building up a sort of 'mental wall' would help block out invasions, as long as it was strong. To do that, you need a clear mind and need to be peaceful," Harry recited. "Also, you should build up the wall little by little, to ensure durability and strength." Dumbledore clapped his hands jovially.

"Excellent! Couldn't have said it better myself," he praised, and Harry felt his insides glow with pride. "Shall we begin?" Harry nodded eagerly. Dumbledore stood up and moved around his desk, pointing to a spot a few feet from where he was standing.

"Harry, kindly take a stand right there," he requested politely, and Harry obeyed. He closed his eyes expectantly, knowing the drill.

"Now, envelop yourself in your mind; become one with your inner being... try not to think about anything. Just let the warmth and bliss of being clear-headed encompass you..." the old man's voice was softly saying. Harry felt like he was floating atop a cloud, free...

"Build up your defense wall now."

Brick by brick stacked up, and Harry made it taunt with strength, using his mind to hold it up... he felt ready.

"Alright, Harry. I'm going in now... Legilimens!"

The spell was quick, pushing its way into Harry's mind forcefully. It pushed against Harry's mental wall, prodding; feeling... a sudden, powerful thrust and Harry could not longer hold it, the strain too large- the wall crumbled, tumbling to the ground. Then the memories came forth, freed from their bondage.

_Harry was being chased up a tree by Ripper, the Dursleys mocking and laughing at him in mirth... Harry was looking into the Mirror of Erised, gazing longingly at the shadowed faces of his parents... A menacing basilisk hovered above him, fangs bared and lunging down to produce the fatal strike as Tom Riddle's voice yelled in the background "KILL HIM!"...Voldemort stood, sneering and wand pointed at an injured Harry on the ground, coughing up blood... Sirius was falling through the veil for the umpteenth time (as it seemed to Harry), gone foreverthrough the swaying, blood red veil... Harry's parents, Sirius, and Cedric were gloating at Harry in a dark void, blaming him for their deaths..._

The cruel words stabbed at Harry like knives, bringing him down at their mercy and anger. Harry couldn't bear their heartless words and enraged faces, seeing how every mistake and slip-up he had made had just ensured their deaths, their murders on his behalf... 'Stop! I don't want to hear it! I didn't mean to! Stop! Stop!'

A large burst of raw energy burst forth from Harry, and he cried out at the sheer force. He was angry, wanting the painful vision memory to end...Suddenly, Harry's vision cleared cogently and he saw a very surprised looking Dumbledore conjuring a shield charm in personal protection, such was the surge of magic flowing at him angrily. Harry's eyes widened as he realized that he had sent his power upon Dumbledore, but not knowingly or purposely. Calling all his concentration together, Harry desperately screaming inwardly at his magic to dissipate. Instantly, the powerful aura disappeared and Harry dropped to his knees weakly.

"Harry!" Dumbledore was suddenly kneeling in front of him, grasping Harry's elbows and pulling him to his feet gently.

"Sir... I didn't mean to...to... to do that!" Harry struggled to explain, a pleading look on his face. He hadn't meant to throw so much power at his Headmaster. What if the old man had been thrown off-guard and injured?

The man shook his head genially, the astounded look still emanating off his face.

"On the contrary, dear boy. That was amazing! With that much power, you could succeed in throwing off an attempt by Voldemort, with practice of course. Child, you may not realize it but you possess great magic potential; your power is growing at an astounding rate. Already, you subconsciously possess the power of an adult much older than you! As to you directing it at me, I fully understand that you were merely trying to protect yourself from that memory," Dumbledore reassured. Harry nodded in relief, feeling a bit bewildered at the revelation.

"I still feel badly."

"Don't," Dumbledore said simply, but with a warm smile. "Perhaps you should take a rest."

"I'm fine!" Harry persisted, already getting in position. "I want to practice more." Dumbledore knew the child would remain defiant as long as need be. He chuckled, also moving into stance. His tone took on a more serious one as he continued.

"Remember, I am not using my full extent of power, as Voldemort will undoubtedly do when trying to pervade your mind. Do not get discouraged if you fail, for mistakes are only detours on the road to perfection. I am very proud of how you kept me out just now. A word to the wise- try to focus your energy more on_ pushing _me out, rather than spending your time holding up the'wall'. More than likely, the invader will get through eventually, so your main priority is the pushing out of them. But don't get me wrong, the wall still must be held up. This is where practicing will come in handy. Already, you are learning nicely...Now, are you ready? Good. Legilimens!"

And so this went on for an hour, Dumbledore having to stop and encourage the boy sometimes, when it seemed he felt dismal at his failings. Always, he reminded Harry that this was only their second lesson and that he would get better with time.

Finally, 9:00pm came and Dumbledore helped Harry to his feet for the seemingly millionth time. Harry was exhausted; he'd used his powers and brain to the max and felt ready for a good, long night's rest. The boy stumbled a bit into Dumbledore's arms, and the Headmaster had to steady him.

"Please get a lot of sleep, Harry, and practice your Occlumency every night," the old man recommended firmly. Harry nodded, making his way to the door. But the pressing question nagging at him made him stop and turn around to look back at Dumbledore when he reached it.

The Headmaster noticed that the boy looked troubled, as if he were gathering up the courage to ask a question. He immediately sensed this.

"Harry?" he prodded delicately.

"Sir..." Harry intoned with a pause. "Where's... Hermione? I never saw her anytime after lunch, when you talked to her..."

Dumbledore's face fell a fraction of an inch, and he looked older and sadder. The wrinkles became more defined.

"Child... I'm not sure I'm the one to tell you..."

"Is she OK?" Harry cried, fear welling up instantly. Dumbledore shushed him, holding up a pacifying hand and trying to bring him back to calmness and avoid a panic attack.

"Miss Granger is fine, but only in one sense. Currently, she is being treated in the Hospital Wing," Dumbledore informed lightly.

"Treated... in the Hospital Wing..." The words seemed to be processing very slowly through Harry's befuddled brain. "Why?"

"I don't think I'm the person to say; she will when she's ready- perhaps you and Mr. Weasley should go visit her in the Hospital Wing, under your Father's cloak, of course..." Dumbledore suggested mildly. Harry nodded, planning on doing just that.

"Thank you, Professor. Good night."

"Good night."

A few minutes later, Harry and Ron were hurriedly making their way to the Hospital Wing, clothed in invisibility by the cloak. Given their pace, they reached their anticipated destination within a matter of minutes. Harry pushed open the large white doors, and the two were greeted with an unnerving and confusing sight.

Hermione sat rocking on one of the white hospital beds, sobbing her heart out in heart-wrenching, choked cries. Her eyes were puffy because of prolonged crying, and her face was drenched with the flow of tears. Her hair was disheveled, and her clothes were as well- she looked a soggy mess. Madam Promfrey was there, trying to console her and make the girl drink down a vial labeled: 'Shock Solution'.

"Her-Hermione?" Ron asked in a dry, raspy voice. His tone suggested concern and disbelief; exactly what Harry was feeling.

The girl's face snapped over to their direction, and she gave another loud wail. Bounding off the bed, she flew at the boys with a pained and distressed expression on her contorted features. Suddenly, Harry and Ron found their arms full of Hermione. Her body trembled as sobs racked her body violently.

Harry found words to speak at last. "Hermione? What's wrong?" At first, Hermione didn't respond. She shook her head despairingly, cries crescendoing in undulation.

" 'Mione?"

Her muffled voice entered their ears from the place where she had buried her face in Ron's shoulder. "Horrible... horrible..."

"What is?" Ron questioned, in ultimate worry. He didn't even seem embarassed by her face in his robes. No answer.

At last, Hermione looked up into their faces, taking deep breaths to calm herself, despite the deep aching sorrow betrayed in her eyes that Harry could relate to so well. Finally, she let forth the words of explaination in a shaking voice.

"It's m-my parents...V-Voldemort... Voldemort killed them!" And then she broke into hysterical howls, and Madam Promfrey led her away. Harry could only stand there, numb shock and anger filling him...

Voldemort had hit again, this time striking home. And suddenly, Harry knew why Voldemort had been so gleeful when his scar had hurt him- the cruel Lord of Darkness had found another way to make Harry suffer... through his friend's pain.

--Wow, what a long chapter! I'm so proud of myself, but it took forever... was this chapter good?Do you like the way this story is heading? Please, please, review and tell me your thoughts!--

The next chapter: "Dementors". Now you all have an inkling of what is going to happen next chapter... or do you:) Wait and see!

Luv- Angel


	13. Dementors

I'm back, everyone! Schoolwork keeps you real busy, so I'm so, so, so, so (ten minutes later) _so_ sorry for the long wait! I know, it's not fair of me and I'll try harder gettingthe chapterup quicker (no guarantees though)! Thank you for reading this, and everyone give a big hand to **hedwig136 **and **Gabwr**. They have always been my constant reviewers and deserve an acknowledgement! I see many are reading, but not as many reviewing. I beg you, take the time to review and tell me what you think because it means soooo much. Thanks! Kudos to all who do- you help me keep going even when I have writer's block!

BIG thank you **Aisha-ladimoon **for the long review. You rock! (wink). Another big thanks to **Harryisagod **for reviewing as well! I luv you peoples.

Note: If any of you know what floor Dumbledore's office is on and which the Hospital Wing is on, that would be gratefully appreciated!

Disclaimer: One day, AngelMoon Girl owned Harry Potter... then she woke up from her dream and had to face the cruel reality (tear).

oOo

A mournful week passed by unbearably slowly, and Harry and Ron did the best they could to console the sometimes-hysterical Hermione. For the first few days, the brain girl spent all her time in the girl's dormitories, brooding in sadness. Harry's heart went out to her- he knew the pain loss brought, and knew that despite many of the best people's efforts, it was hard to cope and believe the words of 'It'll be OK, you'll see.' After that, Hermione began attending her usual classes once again, but it was with a determined air to avoid sympathy that she went about her day-to-day activities. The girl distanced herself from _everyone_, even going as far as to seat herself all alone every day. Harry and Ron fell behind in their homework as effect, partly because they needed the girl's help and partly because they could not bring themselves to do it out of sick worry.

The next Monday, the day dawned bright and early as Harry sleepily made his way into the common room, rubbing his eyes into awareness. As the fog sleep created lifted, he saw a bushy-haired girl at the corner desk, snoring loudly. Hermione looked exhausted; eyes blood-shot with dark circles around them as she slept, head upon a large stack of books. Cautiously, Harry approached her and gave the girl a nudge.

"Hermione?" Brown eyes (A/N: Are Hermione's eyes brown or hazel? Let me know if you know; I'm just hazarding a guess here!) snapped open, gazing at Harry with a mixture of reproachment, astonishment, and anger. The anger won over the other emotions.

"What was that for?" she demanded, voice taking on a cool edge. She sounded positively un-Hermione like as her eyes narrowed dangerously.

" 'Mione, you're exhausted!" Harry chided, trying to keep his voice calm as the hurt tried to overwhelm. "It's not good to bury yourself in your studies like this; it's not good for your health."

"Why should _I _care? Voldemort didn't give a _damn _when he killed my parents and left me an orphan! No one understands! I'm drowning in my own sorr-" The girl suddenly choked up, eyes filled up with tears as her voice descended to a pleading whisper. "Oh Harry, I'm so sorry... I forgot, I'm sorry!" Harry gave her a sad smile, understanding that she had forgotten about his loss of relatives in the heat of the moment.

Hermione continued. "You and me are a lot alike now, aren't we? Harry, I know how horribly you feel now... it's terrible, like someone's ripped out a piece of your heart..." The girl shuddered, then gave a ruthless, self-cruel laugh. "Look at me, dwelling on my pain! You must hurt double, now that you've lost Sirius too..." Harry flinched at his godfather's name- the hole of grief hadn't fully closed yet. He shook his head obstinately, forcibly grabbing Hermione by the shoulders to look her in the eye, to make her understand.

"Hermione, it doesn't matter who's lost more! It's that _we've _lost someone; someone dear to us at the hands of Voldemort. It doesn't separate us; it unifies us, brings us closer together in our fight for justice, and gives us a meaning to fight even the more harder, for their sake!" Hermione's glossy eyes widened at the realization, and she launched into Harry's arms to hug him tightly, sobbing.

"I'm so sorry for snapping at you like that, Harry! And you're right, I need to get on with life and not dig myself into a deeper hole of misery and self-destruction," she related, but then the abated emotion rose up and took over her once more. Harry felt a solitary tear slide down his face, and he brushed it away unwantingly. It was his silent battle againstweakness.

oOo

That evening, Harry entered Professor Dumbledore's office for their second Occlumency lesson this school term. Harry had been trying to occlude his mind every night before bed, and so far it had been working. Now, he hoped his wall would hold firm against Dumbledore's mental intrusions.

"Good evening, Harry," Dumbledore greeted, inclining his head politely. Harry smiled back as he took his usual seat.

"Same to you too, sir." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled madly as he leaned back in his armchair, observing Harry fondly.

"Firstly, I'd like to congratulate you on your effect on Miss Granger. Thankfully, it seems to be having a positive uplift on the girl," Dumbledore beamed, and Harry saw a hint of pride in the old man's clear blue eyes. "On a different, yet related note, I have a question to ask you. Have you filled in your friends on the prophecy?" Harry looked down at his trainers ashamedly, mumbling the answer in the negative.

"Yes, I thought so." Harry looked back up at this statement, and Dumbledore's eyes connected with his, gazing into Harry's green depths intently, a serious air about the Headmaster. "You need to tell your friends, Harry. You need them just as much as they need you. They deserve to know the truth." Harry nodded.

"Promise me you'll tell them. It doesn't have to be any time soon; it can be on your own time. But please, say you will." It wasn't an order, but Dumbledore fostered hope that his Golden Child would follow through. Harry was silent for a fraction of a second, seemingly indesicive.

"I promise," he agreed at last, and he meant it. He just didn't know _when _he would do it. It was hard telling your friends you were the only one to defeat the greatest wizard just below Dumbledore, and even worse informing them that you'd either be a murderer or murdered. The world's fate was burdened on his shoulders, and now it was his duty to let some people in on the secret...

oOo

Another day passed, and Hermione began returning to her usual self. Indeed, that morning she ran at Ron and Harry in the Great Hall, beaming. It was the first smile they'd seen from her in a while, and it suited her more than tears.

"Dumbledore told me that Harry and I are going to live with you in the summer and over Christmas vacation, Ron! Mrs. Weasley had told him she was thrilled to take us in, because she already considers us as part of the family!" Both of the boys broke into smiles too, ecstatic. It seemed as if they _were_ one big family now, tied even tighter together with the bond of friendship. Harry felt his insides grow with happiness. The family he never had...

Hermione broke into his reverie teasingly. "Why're you still standing there? Taking in the beauty of floor tiles? We'll be late for Defense Against the Dark Arts if you don't get a move on!" Harry chuckled, following her out of the Great Hall with Ron close at their tails.

When they entered the classroom, instantly the trio was blanketed in darkness. The only light came from dimmed torches perched upon the wall. Even the windows had been draped with curtains, blocking out even the merest suggestion of sunlight.

"What's this about?" Hermione questioned, as if one of the other two would know what was going on, eyes swiftly searching for Professor Livey. No sooner had she said this when the man's silky voice protruded out from the abyss. All muttering ceased.

"There is no need for you to take your seats. Today is a very 'hands-on' class," his voice informed. The professor moved out of the shadows, making himself visible to his pupils. Oddly, Harry thought he looked a little more stressed than usual- dark circles encompassed his eyes, but Harry surmised it could have just been a trick of the light playing off the walls from the flambeaux.

"What're we doing today?" Seamus Finnigan's voice asked from somewhere on Harry's right- he could not see his classmate. Livey moved foward slowly, looking a little intimidating as the light cast ominous shadows on his features.

"Today, we will have a dueling contest for pairs. The winners earn ten points each for their respected Houses." An excited gleam entered his eyes. "Let's begin."

The class was split up into randomly chosen pairs, courtesy of Professor Livey. Harry found himself holding his breath as the Defense Master picked his opponent.

"Potter, Potter... why don't you go with Blaise Zabini over here," the man said, gesturing to a tall, lanky black Slytherin boy. Harry nodded stiffly. His optimistic side reminded him that 'Hey, it least it wasn't Malfoy'.

The pairs were instucted to stand together, and Harry and Blaise did so with utmost uncomfort. Harry avoided the Slytherin's eyes, looking everywhere but at him. Zabini did the same, as he wasn't keen on making any contact whatsoever with Harry either. It was common knowledge that Gryffindor and Slytherin House did not get along.

"Now, turn and face your partner. Shake his or her hand, then take three big steps back and get into dueling position." Harry and Blaise turned, and Harry offered out his hand. The two shook, letting go rather quickly. Harry gladly took the three steps backward, feeling a bit unnerved being so close to one of Malfoy's croonies. Harry had sometimes seen Zabini hanging out with Malfoy on occasion, and Harry liked to disassociate himself with anyone having anything to do with his enemy.

"When I say 'Go', I want you to fire curses at your partner.They cannot be deadly or harmful in any way, lest it is your wish to be immediately expelled from Hogwarts _forever_," Livey stressed. "The Unforgivables are a serious crime as well and any who uses one faces more than expulsion- the penalty is Azkaban (many faces turned a bit ashen at this), and I emphasize that these curses are NOT to be used in this classroom or anywhere else. Use the spells you have learnt previously...GO!" It was as if a bomb went off in the classroom. The darkness erupted into flares and streams of multicolor spells, lightning up the room in blinding flashes. There was much yelling and commotion as people casted, dodged, and counter-attacked spells.

Harry and Blaise began at once, Harry taking the first, offensive aim as Professor Livey cried: "GO!"

"IMPEDIAMENTA!"

"PROTEGO! Stupefy!" Harry dodged the Stunning Charm easily.

"Fernacula!"

"Engorgio!"

"Protego! Impediamenta!" The curses flew back and forth, and Harry soon realized that this was vainly futile. Simply firing and blocking curses was getting them nowhere; it just produced a repeating monotone. He schemed up a plan; one where he would shoot out a spell to distract/occupy Blaise whilst Harry casted yet another. Harry's swift gaze fell upon the window curtains centered above Zabini's head. He pointed his wand up at them, momentarily confusing his opponent.

"Reducto!" The curtains ripped from their supports and fell on an astonished Zabini.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" the boy exclaimed, just in time. The curtains flew away, but Harry took his distraction as an opportunity to shout:

"STUPEFY!" Blaise's head shot in Harry's direction, seeing the red spell fly at him but too late to do anything about it. He was lifted off his feet and flew back unconscious, skidding across the floor to rest motionless.

"Excellent, Potter!" Livery praised in rewarding tone. "Ten points to Gryffindor." Harry smiled crookedly, spirits not really into it. He hated having to hurt others for no particular reason but practice. In his mind, it was cruel and didn't make sense.

Professor Livey noticed this and put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "You'll get used to it." For some reason, this didn't make Harry feel better... perhaps worse, but not better. He wasn't sure he'd ever _want_ to get used to hurting others, even just for defensive measures. Livey pointed his wand at Blaise Zabini's limp form. "Ennervate!"

The Slytherin's eyes flew open, moving to Harry immediately. Harry couldn't decipher his expression as he sat up, still staring at the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Sorry about that," Harry apologized, feeling the need, especially during the uncomfortable silence. For a moment, the teen just stared at Harry, then gave a curt nod showing he'd understood and accepted the apology.

The professor moved to the front of the room, calling for a halt to the individual duels. He clapped his hands and the flames of the torches shot up, lighting up the room instantly and whisking away the blackness. Harry and many others had to blink a few times to cleartheir vision and become accustomed to the brightness. Harry also noted that his suspicions were correct; Professor Livey did look decidedly tired.

"That will be all for today. The bell's going to ring any moment, and I don't want to delay you on your mad frenzy to lunch, so I'll give out the homework now." Groans reverbated throughout the room, but Livey smiled. He had a genuine sense of humor and found the opposition hysterical. "I'd like a foot and a half on the spells you cast during your duel and why you think they did or did not work." The bell rang out systematically, echoing through the castle. "Good day; enjoy your lunch."

Ron moaned as he, Harry, and Hermione made their way to the Great Hall- one of someone in pernicious trouble.

"Like I actually remember the spells I used!" Ron had been paired with Justin Finch-Fletchley, a formidable adversary in spell-casting, being a member of the DA and slightly more advanced than Ron. "It's not as though I really planned them; they just sorta came to my head and rolled off my tongue- everything was happening so quick so I wasn't exactly planning anything!" Hermione rolled her eyes with a noise of disgust and Harry laughed.

"Boy, you'll last long in a battle with a Death Eater, won't you?" he jeered good-naturedly. Ron punched Harry's arm playfully, but his tone was serious.

"Least I'll have you to back me up." Harry smiled back at this show of loyalty, touched at the genuinity of the simple statement. Harry knew his friends were always going to be there with him; by his side to the very last battle and a stronghold through thick and thin.

Once they were settled at their usual spot at the table, Hermione pulled out her _Daily Prophet _and began to scan through it. She hadn't had a chance to read it at breakfast because she had been speaking with Dumbledore about the housing arrangements now that her parents had passed on. Ron and Harry eyed her inquiringly. They always wanted to know who'd died now that Voldemort was back and in force, as well as open to the public eyes. Hermione scanned the obituaries for them, a relieved look crossing over her features. For once, the only people who'd died were of natural causes.

"Nope, no one we know." Harry let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding. It seemed that lately, many people were being slaughtered. It irked him that suddenly it had stopped, and now he wasn't sure if this was a good or bad sign... he'd have to talk about it with Dumbledore later.

"Well that's good," Harry responded instinctively. Hermione gasped, exclaiming:

"This isn't!" Instantly, Ron and Harry were upon her like vultures.

"What? What?" Hermione turned the paper around and pointed at an article on the second page. The headline read: **Dementor Sighting in Hogsmeade**. Hermione laid the paper flat on the table, smoothing the wrinkles out so they could read it. Then she silently read the article aloud to the two boys. It wasn't that long, as the sighting wasn't confirmed and only spotted by two people- not a likely story in the _Prophet_'s world and therefore the reason why it wasn't headline, front-page news. According to the Honeydukes manager and his wife, dementors had been been spotted gliding down the streets and air last night. Unfortunately for them, they were the only ones to see this phenomena and therefore not taken entirely seriously. Whether a fearful hallucination (as had been happening lately- many claimed fanatical stories about Voldmort looking in their window) or a real sighting, no one knew. That didn't dampen Harry's bad feeling though.

The break proceeding lunch proved useful to Harry as he planned out the Quidditch tryouts that were to happen that evening. As Quidditch Captain of the Gryffindor Team, it was Harry's duty to oversee it and choose who the new members were to be. So far, they needed two new beaters and two new chasers. Katie Bell and Ron were still on the team, and didn't need replacing. Many hopeful Gryffindors had signed up to tryout, and Harry doubted he'd get a chance to see each and everyone's if each person were to do their's separately. At last, Harry decided to have everyone tryout at once, and narrow it down from there. Perhaps then he'd be able to make his final decision, and have things go along much quicker. He really did have a lot of homework tonight!

oOo

It wasn't long before classes ended and Harry was heading down with Ron to the Quidditch Pitch, Firebolt in hand. Harry had asked Professor McGonagall if Ron could be made assistant Quidditch Captain. Amazingly, she had agreed only too complyingly, saying it would be beneficial to the team. Ron was ecstatic about this, chatting very animatedly with Harry about some quidditch plans he had in mind. Harry was grateful for this- he didn't have too many plans in mind.

They reached the Pitch, and Harry's mouth hung open in astonishment. It looked as if over a hundred people had shown up, all sporting various models of brooms. About another hundred, mostly younger years and those too busy to play quidditch (i.e. the Hermione group) had vacated a section of the stands to spectate the event. Ron had to elbow Harry in order to get the boy to stop gawking and get moving. They entered the field, and the tryouts began.

It took about an hour of skillful flying, watching, dramatical/hysterical tears, and a lot of tapering down before Harry finally made his decision, backed up by Ron. The two new chasers were Ginny Weasley, who had filled in for Harry due to his ban last year, and a strong, well-flying, and competitive fifth year named Maria Lauriels. She had long, brown hair that the girl routinely kept up in a sporty ponytail. Maria was well-built and skilled with hand-eye-coordination, something Harry fancied would be very helpful when scoring goals with the quaffle.

To fill in the beaters' position, Harry chose two strong seventh year boys, Michael Moore and Stephen Portier. The two worked well together, forming a dangerous duo. Both sported muscular arms and, like Maria, were gifted with hand-eye-coordination. This factor also proved useful when decking heavy balls at flyers. Even better, the two were excellent flyers and dodged superbly.

The new Gryffindor Quidditch Team met in the locker rooms. Harry made his talk quick; already, chilly end-of-September dusk had set, painting the sky a deep periwinkle. Dinner had begun in the Great Hall. The boy announced that their first practice would be a week from then, working into each's busy schedules. Their first match with Ravenclaw would occur as October died away, and Harry felt sure his fresh, talented team faired a good chance of coming out victorious.

The meeting ended and the team trudged up to the castle, chit-chatting about how excited and apprehensive they were about the coming match. Harry lagged behind the group, conversing with Ginny.

"So how are you, Harry?" Ginny asked, giving him a dazzling smile that made Harry's heart flutter. He didn't take the time to ponder this new feeling though as the petite fifth year continued on. "I haven't really had much time to talk to you." Harry shrugged and returned the grin.

"S'OK. I'm fine," he responded. "I wanted to thank you for taking over seeker position last year when I was banned. You were great!" No regret was held within Harry for this; he had been truely grateful that Ginny took his place when he couldn't play. Ginny blushed modestly, unconvinced of her own prodigious talent.

"That was only because that cow Umbridge sacked you for no reason! I would've done the same to Malfoy if he'd just dissed my parents. Really, I'm not as good as you- I don't even come close!"

Harry frowned. "I wouldn't go that far..."

Ginny giggled and punched Harry's arm, and the boy feigned a large moan. "Ow... God, you've got some strength!"

"I wouldn't go that far," Ginny teased, repeating his previous words. Harry scoffed playfully, feeling totally at ease with this little red-head. His vision caught on Hagrid's hut, and he realized with guilt that he hadn't gone to see Hagrid yet this school year. Harry informed Ginny of this.

"OK. See you at dinner!" Ginny called, continuing on the journey up to the castle while Harry made a turn in the direction of the big, one-room house that Hagrid called his own. The windows glowed, light cascading out onto the darkened ground. Harry automatically surmised his giant friend was home, but the sureness turned to doubt as his knocks brought no response. Not even Fang barked! Harry soon found himself banging loudly.

"HAGRID! HAGRID, ARE YOU THERE?" Harry shouted. Not even the smallest noise came from within the hut. Harry sighed, ceasing his infernal fight with the door. He was just about to head up to the Great Hall, pulling his robes closer around his thin body to block out the sudden chill, when a low whimper reached his ears, from far away. It seemed to be coming fromin theForest, and Harry's ears did not deceive him as the whine grew stronger... he knew who it belonged to as his heart filled with ice-cold dread, doing somersaults unwillingly... Fang! Wherever Hagrid went, his boar-like dogFang followed. And if Fang was hurt... Harry letout a strained whoosh of air, eyes full of fear. Hagrid could be injured as well!

Abandoning all sense in worry of his friend, Harry pulled out his wand and stealthily made his way into the Forbidden Forest, following the whimper. It was growing less and Harry feared the sound would stop and leave him stuck, unsure of which way to go. His heart was racing like crazy, and his withdrawn arm was trembling. What would he find? Darkness engulfed him, for the trees let in no light. Harry shuddered, unknowing if it was because of his panic or that fact that it seemed to be growing colder. Or perhaps it was the terror beginning to settle in the pit of his stomach, threatening to strangle him cruelly...

The whine stopped, and so did Harry. He strained his ears for even the littlest sound, ignoring the alarm bells ringing in his head, saying something was wrong and he should go back and get help before heading any farther. But what if it was too late? Time wouldn't stop for anyone, nor destiny. Harry didn't need to listen hard, for a loud roar that belonged to Hagrid reverbated throughout the Forest. Harry's eyes widened and he began running, not caring if anyone could hear him. His heart and head pounded as he sprinted in farther deeper at the direction of the noise. Not even his body registered the sudden dip in the temperature.

Then came the sounds, and immediately, Harry knew what he was facing. Who could mistake the sickening, rattling breaths? It only steadied Harry's resolve to save Hagrid.

Harry saw it next. Adorned in death black robes... white, clammy hands... hovering a few inches above the ground... a dementor- and it was about the perform the final Kiss on Hagrid!

"NO!" Harry pointed his wand at the Kiss giver, who's lips were almost upon Hagrid's. The boy ingnored the sounds playing in his head. The giant had fallen unconscious, unable to fight back. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" A filmy white stag erupted out of the wand and rushed at the dementor, closing in on it and sweeping the thing away with its horns. The dementor flew into the air and was banished into the night. Harry ran over and fell down next to Hagrid, who lied spread-eagle on the ground. He was pale and shaking visibly. Fang huddled close to his master, trying to provide body warmth- it didn't seem to be enough. Harry unclasped his cloak and draped it over the giant, praying it would be enough.

"Hagrid? Can you hear me?" Hagrid made no movement in response, aside from the shivering. Harry'sbrain panicked over a way to get Hagrid back to the castle. He knew he had to go find help, if he could find the way _out _of the godforsaken Forest! However, leaving Hagrid was lowest on his list of priorities. Should he drag him back? Harry berated himself for the ludicrous thought. 'No, that's stupid. I'm not thinking straight. What do I do?' The last thought tumbled out, for Harry had truely no clue. His brain seemed fogged over, making just thinking hard. Voices seemed to be speaking inside his head, and they were growing stronger...

Harry stumbled up, clutching his head and wondering if he'd finally cracked. The reason was not far to be found, and Harry gave a loud cry when he saw that thirty or so new dementors were circling in upon him, on all sides. Their soul-thirsty breathes they sucked in rattled unpleasantly. All bloodied hands reached out for the boy, seeking Harry blindly and relying on smell. Harry's scent of his soul was strong, for it echoed pureness, nobility, and virtue. A prize like that was not easily found, and every dementor desired such a treasure. This was why the dementors always were so"fond" of Harry.

The horrible memories played like a radio in Harry's head, blocking out his vision. _Harry's parent's last, pleading words and oppostion to the Dark Lord, and Lily's Potter's dying screams of "HARRY!"... All the cruel years spent with the Dursleys... Voldemort mocking him in fourth year at the Graveyard, killing Cedric, forcing him into a ridiculous bow and a duel to the Death... the Cruciatus raging through Harry... Sirius' body curving into a graceful arc as he fell through the veil... Voldemort's last attack on Harry in the summer... _All of the worst moments of Harry's life meshed together, flying by but feeling unbearably real, as if experiencing each once again. Vaguely, Harry knew he had to fight it, but it was so hard just to _speak_...

"Ex-exp-p-pecto... P-patronum!" Harry gasped out, feeling himself hyperventilating in the fight to get enough air. A feeble mist of smoke was all his wand could produce. Harry tried to draw in great lung fulls of air, but it grew more labored as he felt a clammy hand clamp around his neck, slightly damp and beyond gross. The hand pulled him foward, and Harry unwillingly registered that his feet were dragging across the Forest floor. He felt the frozen breath on his face within moments, and Harry was filled with sadness. Through the images, Harry recalled Ron and Hermione, laughing and talking... would he ever see them again? God, he wished he would! Harry dwelled upon that memory, trying to not let it escape and force him back to watching all the bad ones. He used it to try and draw himself back to the scary reality he was facing, and it was as if a fire welled up in him, bursting out... literally. The raw magic produced in Dumbledore's office came out from within him, striking the dementor. It gave a terrible screech, being enveloped with the white power. It looked like the power was strangling the dementor! There was a blinding, black flash and overwhelming smell, then the dementor was nothing but a smouldering pile of robes on the leafy ground.

Harry stared at it, petrified frozen and weak-kneed. Had he really done that? He didn't even know destroying a dementor was possible! The magic had taken a toll on Harry, and he knew he was going to black out soon. It was all the boy could do to cling onto the thin thread that was consciousness. And the rest of the dementors were still there, unfazed by the destruction of one of their own. They all closed in at once, hands touching Harry everywhere. The boy's vision blurred, and the memories returned in full. He knew, this time, that he didn't have enuogh strength or power to destroy another. He was going to die, and there was nothing he could do... Expecto Patronum was worthless when the caster just barely bordered on the edge of awareness. The anguish was becoming unbearable...

He suddenly felt something cold on his chest... something circular and solid that wasn't a dementor's hand. The Protering! Harry hands flew to it, and he sqeezed the ring weakly, but it was enough.

"Protering...Activate!" The metal seared white-hot, then cooled. Now if only Dumbledore would get there in time, before Harry was a senseless, lifeless being, neither here nor there without his precious soul.

Two dementor's faces pressed in on the boy. He pulled back his head in revulsion and fear, but another strong hand grasped his hair and yanked him painfully foward and up to the looming lips. They were almost on his, and Harry's heart seemed trying to displace itself, it beat so hard. That sound was the only Harry heard clearly, through the blur of the memory ones and the sounds of the dementors' breathing. Those black death lips were the last thing Harry saw before exhaustion and terror overwhelmed him, and with eyes rolling into the back of his head, Harry fainted. However, the memories obstinately remained; a living nightmare.

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Sorry about that. I'm real evil, ain't I? Wonder what'll happen... -grin-. Please, please, please review cause I REALLY wanna know what y'all think. Stay tuned; I'll try and get the next chapter up ASAP.

Luv- Angel

ReViEw, ReAdErS!


	14. Retrieval

WOW! THANK YOU, REVIEWERS! I had many people triumphantly step up to the plate and deliver some awesome reviews. I loved them! Please keep up the reviewing, everyone! You have no idea how much it means to me- they brighten my day considerably and even give me new chapter ideas! (Like this one- this chapter wasn't planned but the idea came to me and I thought it'd be really exciting! Much better than what I had originally planned!).

I would like to personally thank: **Harryisagod**, **alaskangirl24**, **Xelena**, **hedwig136**, **Gabwr**, **Aisha-ladimoon**, **Potter-Blood**,** Starr33**, **Dejai Patrelli**, and **twilightscalling**. Your reviews were well-constructed and sooooo good! Keep 'um up (grin and wink)!

Disclaimer: (on my knees) Please, please, please, _please _can you at least _lend _me the rights to Harry Potter? (Warner Bros. shakes their heads). Nope, not even begging works! Oh well. Was worth a try.

**It Ends Now**

Part 14: "Retrieval"

Albus Dumbledore sighed, dropping his quill and rubbing his eyes with wizened fingers. For once, he was finding reviewing Ministry papers tedious and irksome. It wasn't the content that agitated him, but his own mind. For some reason, an unsettled, almost paranoia-like feeling hovered over him, like a dismal curtain. There was an omniscent, bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, as if something were very wrong. But Dumbledore assumed there was no need to get flustered, and dismissed it, trying to ignore the irritating sensation that was disrupting his work. Another five minutes passed and the feeling escalateduntil he was completely unable to concentrate.

A glance at the clock informed the Headmaster that it was dinnertime. Pushing the anxiety to the back of his head, Dumbledore stood and stretched his back, shuffling up his papers into a semblance of order. 'I must be going senile,' the old man thought amusedly, trying to calm his edgy nerves. He prepared to leave his office, but was only halfway towards the door when the Protering double strung round his neck burned red-hot. It meant that Harry had squeezed it, and Dumbledore knew the boy would not joke around if nothing were wrong...he must be in trouble!

Worry, protectiveness, and anxiety at what he would find flooded Dumbledore at once, eating away at him. The feelings only heightened the old man's resolve to get to Harry at once. He flung out his arm.

"Fawkes!" The magnificent, red pheonix that was his magical pet flew gracefully from his perching place, sweeping over to his master with such dexterity not found in common, Muggle birds. It hovered above Dumbledore's open hand, outstretched wings flapping steadily and smoothly as the pheonix dropped one of its tail feathers. Dumbledore caught it the moment the feather brushed against his palm, clasping it tightly. There was a tumultous flash of fire that sprung up from the ground and swirled up around the Headmaster, who didn't even flinch. A nanosecond later, there was a loud BANG and the man was gone.

Harry fell into the blackness just as Dumbledore appeared in a piercing flash of unburning, transporting flames.

"Harry! Stay alert!" the Headmaster exclaimed in warning futilely, unknowing of the events having took place previously. But his heeds were paid no mind as Harry drifted unhearingly into inky darkness, disrupted only by the memories following him and bringing him into a broken unconsciousness.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" the Headmaster roared, sweeping his wand in an arch. A humungous, pearl-white and transparent pheonix made its way out of his long wand. The bird squawked, almost three times the size of Fawkes and unleashing powerful bursts of energy. It zoomed at all the dementors, grazing each with its sharp talons and making all flee into the night. The one holding Harry captive released him, lips only millimeters from Harry's slightly parted mouth. The Death Bringer would have completed the Kiss were it not for the pheonix striking it full across the face and forcing the dementor's unearthly face away from Harry. It too disappeared in a swish of robes. Harry fell back, landing spread-eagle on the still unconscious Hagrid.

The night warmed, and the starry night sky became visible above the treetops, where before it had been a void of black nothingness. The moon appeared, shining cascades of light over the three. Dumbledore ran at his charge and grounds caretaker, concern filling the spot where fear had vacated when he had first arrived at the scene of chaos.

First, the old man gently pulled Harry off Hagrid. The boy had turned a pallid, milky-white cream color, set off by the illumination of the moon's light on his immobile face. Hagrid appeared the same, but his features were regaining color and his trembling had ceased. At the moment, Dumbledore was more frightened for Harry's sake than Hagrid's. Giants were tough, and could withstand attacks much easier than humans. They tended to have bounce-back recoveries, and Hagrid, being a half-giant, displayed this quality. Last year, he'd held firm against multiple Stunning Charms. One dementor attack was also minimal compared to one initiated by thirty or so.

Hagrid stirred, eyes opening. Immediately, he spotted the Headmaster, currently cradling Harry, who'd shown no change.

"Sir? What's wrong with Harry?" Hagrid croaked, sitting up. He put a large hand to his temple. "Last I remember's a dementor comin' at me. Musta fainted after that."

"Truthfully, Hagrid, I'm not too sure either. Firstly, we have to bring Harry back up to the school, then just go from there. Once he wakes up, I'm sure all will be revealed," Dumbledore reassured. He levered himself off the ground, bringing Harry up with him cautiously, careful not to joltthe boyaround too much.

"I'll take 'im, sir. Least I can dofer you an' Harry," Hagrid said, offering out his arms with softened eyes in love of his first real friend. Dumbledore nodded gratefully- he was no longer a young man, and despite the fact that he wielded unseen strength and power, the old man highly doubted he'd be able to carry Harry _all _the way up to the school. He could for a little while, but Harry wasn't exactly weightless either, even though he was skinny and a tad small for his age. Besides, Dumbledore reckoned he shouldn't disregard his wand- many things lurked within the Forest's depths, and if need arose, he'd need it. Magicking Harry onto a stretcher was out of the question; that also required a wand and concentration to float him all the way up to the school (unbeknownst to Harry at the time, he'd travelled quite a ways into the Forest)- the two things Dumbledore would need when faced with an attack.

Hagrid gathered the boy into his arms. Harry twitched, but his eyes never opened. Headmaster and teacher headed up to the school precariously, on the alert for centaurs, werewolves, and the like. It was lucky Hagrid was there, for he knew the Forest like the back of his hand. Dumbledore's alight wand tip led the way.

The two reached the Hospital Wing and were met by a frantic, concerned Madam Promfrey, mouth agape at the sight of her returning patient. She saw that boy more than any other student, and unlike the others, it was always for reasons beyond Harry's cause. Sure, she pressed rest, but it was only for his own good, despite her knowledge that he would of course want to be running around or flying his broom on the Quidditch Pitch... just like his father. The matron felt pity for the fragile child, motherly instincts kicking in whenever he was brought into her care and graced the Hospital Wing. This time, Harry entered looking like he'd literally been pulled from the grave, given his complexion. That was always the nurse's fear- that one day, they _would _be putting him into the grave, laid in a coffin. She knew one could only last for so long against Lord Voldemort, and luck and skill were useful but didn't last forever. Many aurors had proved this. For now, the only thing she could do was heal him.

"Harry! Headmaster, what's happened?" the matron questioned, feeling Harry's pulse. It was very faint, and this worried the nurse.

"I'm not entirely sure. There seems to have been a dementor attack, and it is my belief Harry went after them to save Hagrid," Dumbledore opined slowly, considering the facts he'd been given and piecing them together prodigiously. The man's brain was a thing to behold, as was his legendary vast knowledge. He flicked his wand and magicked Harry from Hagrid's protective hold, transporting him onto a bed that seemed to be reserved for him, he occupied it so much.

"Save Hagrid?" Madam Promfrey repeated, and hand resting upon Harry's forehead to take his temperature. Hagrid nodded, wearily sinking into a chair beside the bed as he too put together the information.

"He shouldn't a done that fer me..."

"Hagrid, you know Harry cares deeply for those he loves. Enough to place his own life before theirs'... it cannot be helped," Dumbledore said simply and proudly. "The boy has a pure, loving heart, a virtue uncommon in children with his past experiences. We are blessed with such an amazing boy." A silence followed this, as if those present were thinking over what had been said. Madam Promfrey was the first to break the reverie.

"Anyways Hagrid, I must insist I check over you as well. It seems to be that Harry is fine, just exhausted and weak. I'm going to do a thorough inspection of the child in a moment, but he seems in no immediate danger. I assume you were attacked by the dementors?"

Hagrid nodded. "I guess. I sorta blanked out when the firs' dementor came at me." Promfrey examined Hagrid too, then waved her wand and a block of chocolate appeared. She pushed it into the giant's hand.

"Eat. You're perfectly fine, just tired," she informed. Hagrid chewed the chocolate slowly, finishing it with a swallow. The sweet filled him with a warmth, filling up the chill left by the dementors. The giant suddenly felt very sleepy- better, but sleepy. The Care of Magical Creatures teacher stood.

"I think I'll tuck in then, if Harry's OK. I'm gonna come visit the lad if 'e wakes up though." Then Hagrid parted, ready for a longnap. Dumbledore turned to Promfrey, who was fussing over the pillows and making them"just right".

"I must let the teachers and Harry's friends know what has happened. Poppy, inform me of any change in Harry," the Headmaster requested, then swept out of the ward.

oOo

Professor Dumbledore sighed, patience just as strong as ever. "I'm sorry children, but for the last time, I cannot allow you to see Harry at the present moment. I assure you that you will be able to visit him when he awakes, but for now, Mr. Potter needs his rest." The statement was met with scowls by Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, who had been fruitlessly trying to persuade the Headmaster if they could see Harry. The old man held firm, but offered words of sympathetic compromise at the let-down looks on their faces.

"One day. Please, wait at least one day and if Harry still hasn't awoken, then you may see him. I solemnly swear to you that should any change for the worse happen, you will be let known about it immediately." Relauctantly, the three agreed to this. None had been expecting a call so soon though...

oOo

A very anxious Madam Promfrey stood in the corner, having a very animated and loud conversation with Dumbledore. She had a fretful look about her, wisps of hair protruding out from her usually stiff, McGonagall-like bun. The woman was wringing her hands, frequently shooting glances over at her unmoving patient.

"It's not good, Albus. No matter what I do, the boy simply won't wake up. I've tried Ennervation, potions, everything I can think of! Outwardly, he's perfectly healthy. But he should have awoken by now; this isn't normal in a dementor attack!" Promfrey's voice rose hysterically as she spoke, gesturing wildly in Harry's direction and eyes betraying the fear she felt. Normally, the nurse was calm, cool, and collected. But at this moment, she was letting her true feelings of frustration and worry show. Dumbledore himself looked apprehensive, but there was a pensive look filtering across his face.

"Perhaps... yes, it could be..." He seemed to be weighing guesses aloud, but then reverted back to reality. "I have a hunch, Poppy, that the memories Harry were forced to relive during the dementor attack are possessing him still, rendering the boy unable to revive. It is rare, though not entirely uncommon, in dementor attacks with an abnormally abundant amount of dementors for the victim to remained haunted and restrained by the dementor's effects, unconsciously reliving the visions."

"But then, how will we rouse him? Is it possible to retrieve him from there?" Promfrey questioned, stealing another look over at Harry. She felt so concerned for the child. He faced so much yet received so little in return! Dumbledore sombered.

"It's complicated, Poppy. The victim must empty the bad thoughts into a pensieve, relieving his mind of the strain. Only then can they awaken," the Headmaster stated.

"Is there more to this, though? I mean, what about the stored memories? I, as much as everyone else postioned in the welfare of the child, would love for Harry to be rid of the past's traumas. The boy has faced so much more than any other student who's passed through this school; so much more burden hanging over his shoulders. But it is inevitable he recieve them back, is it not?" the matron pressed. Dumbledore nodded at her intuitiveness.

"Yes. Harry needs his memories, even the bad. They will have to be put back one by one after he has regained consciousness, so as to not overwhelm him. If the child cannot retain them, then all hope of him fighting Voldemort in the final duel is lost. You cannot fight a person whom you believe has done no evil, especially Harry. Those bad memories are both a curse and a blessing- it reminds him of why he must defeat the Dark lord and what could be lost if all fails." Madam Promfrey, like all the Order members, knew of the prophecy's contents. She knew it was this mere child's destiny to fight the last battle withVoldemort, either to be the victorious or fallen. If he died, the hope of the world's goodness died with him. And none were about to let that happen.

oOo

The threesome of Ron, Hermione, and Ginny entered the Hospital Wing, instantaneously being greeted by Professor Dumbledore. They launched into interrogation at once.

"Sir, what's wrong with Harry?" Ron and Hermione simultaneously asked.

"Is he ill?" Ginny was looking past the Headmaster and over where Madam Promfrey was tending to Harry, sitting beside his sickly form. Harry was covered in a sheen of sweat, a light shivering shaking his body. The matron was wiping his forehead with a wet cloth. The boy's heart rate had suddenly begun dropping, and his temperature increased with each minute, as if it were hard for him to keep going, what with the repetition of cruel scenes playing through his mind like a broken record. He had taken a turn for the worst. The visions seemed to be taking a toll on his physical state, as well as mental.

"Harry is being attacked mentally with bad memories of the terrors from his past, due to long exposure to many dementors. Currently, he is unable to awaken and he needs our help," Dumbledore said.

"Our...?" Hermione trailed off, coming to the revelation. "But... how can we help?"

"The four of us are going to attempt to enter Harry's mind." Three gasps sounded from the Gryffindor teens.

"Into his mind?"

"How will we do that?"

"Won't Harry be angry if we're watching his past memories?" Ginny questioned, always the sensitive one. "He never wants to talk about Dursley life, the night in the Graveyard, Sirius' death, or any other painful subject. He always changes the topic." Dumbledore's gaze saddened.

"It is unavoidable. If we are to rescue Harry, we must observe the memories as well. To ignore them is to ignore Harry's plight," the Headmaster opined. "Come with me." He led them to Harry's bedside.

"We don't have much time," Madam Promfrey muttered to Dumbledore, saying it softly so as to not alarm the children. But they heard nonetheless, and whatever doubt they'd been feeling vanished. It was Harry's life on the line.

"Accio pensieve!" Dumbledore called, wand raised high. With a resounding_ whoosh_, the ancient pensieve that always resided in Dumbledore's office came to a halt in front of the five occupants of the ward. The runes carved into it glittered oddly as Dumbledore incanted a complex spell, hand resting on the memory-holder. He let go of the tool and waved his hand over the pure, crystalline liquid inside. A thin strand that almost looked like green string floated out, and Dumbledore grabbed hold of it.

"What's that?" Hermione asked, hungry for knowledge.

"An Almalgamater," he answered. "A very complicated term. To_ almalgamate _something, means to merge something with something else, or to connect it... You shall see why it is named such...Deuxtus!" The spell struck the string into two. Skillfully, the man set one Almalgamater onto Harry's temple and instantly, it melded into it. The three children just stared aghast at this abnormal display. The Almalgamater connected Harry with the pensieve, Dumbledore explained to all, and was a means of transporting the memories.

"What's the other strand for?" Ron inquired of the second Almalgamater still in Dumbledore's hand. The man offered no immediate response, instead setting it onto Harry's other temple and it too became one with the boy. However, the end of the string was still held in Dumbledore's grasp. To Hermione, a Muggle-born, the concoction looked rather like a muggle IV hook-up.

"It is our transportation," Dumbledore finally answered simply to Ron."Everyone grab hold of a part of it. The Almalgamater works like a portkey, and will transfer us into Harry's subconscious." Ron, Hermione, and Ginny each grabbed hold.

"Prepare yoursleves," Dumbledore warned. He closed his eyes and the trio, unsure of what to do, followed suit.

An unseen wind kicked up, blowing the quartet's hair around wildly, slapping them with its force. There was an unearthly glow that surrounded all four, slightly white in color. Then the luminescence spread to Harry, traveling down the Almalgamater to encircle him like one's aura. There was a blinding flash of light, then the Professor and trio were gone.

"Please get him back," Madam Promfrey prayed aloud, stroking Harry's unruly hair away from his sticky forehead.

oOo

_Harry shivered, having watched Cedric's death for the umpteenth time. Amazingly, it was just as frightening and painful to see as the first time, when he'd really been there. But for all Harry knew, he was there again. It was as if he were living inside a very-real nightmare, with no escape. Harry knew he was going to lose it soon, for seeing these memories play over and over again were driving him over the edge with grief and sadness, and there was no release in sight._

_The scene moved to Voldemort casting Crucio on Harry. The real Boy-Who-Lived twitched, averting his eyes but unable to block out his own screams. He could almost feel the illusionary anguish, having been on the recieivng end of the curse many times; many times enough to be able to envision the spell coursing through his very bones..._

_A ball of light appeared nearby Harry, growing brighter in intensity- so much so that Harry had to shield his eyes. Curiousity overcame fear and he peeked through his fingers. Four figures stood there, three in total astonishment. _

_"Professor Dumbledore! Ron! Hermione! **Ginny**!" Harry exclaimed, blushing ashamedly and insides squirming. Currently, past memory Harry was being berated by Vernon Dursley for having dropped a pan of bacon because he felt ill. A cuff on the side of past-Harry's head was given in the beefy man's anger. Harry really didn't want his peers or the Headmaster to be seeing such stuff as this._

_'But Uncle, I feel sick! It wasn't my fault!' the 8-year-old child cried, tears springing to his eyes at the smack and cradling his reddened ears. There was a slight ringing sounding in his head because of the strike. The hurt was evident in his voice, and Harry remembered how back then, he'd still fostered hope that someday, the Dursleys would love him. The hope died soon enough when he'd realized the truth that had been staring him in the face all along. Unlce Vernon's chest expanded and his vein in his temple throbbed... danger point..._

_'Too damn well it is, boy! I didn't ask for you to be dropped off on our doorstep! I didn't ask for you to be freakin' born! That is _your _fault! It is your fault for simply **living**!' Vernon roared, purple in the face. He slapped Harry across the face ruthlessly, this time as punishment for plainly being. The attack was so fierce that it knocked little Harry to the floor._

_'Get up, FREAK! Go to your room, **now**! Perhaps missing dinner tonight will teach your sorry little self to not talk back to your elders!'_

_Present Harry turned away from the scene, tears gathering in his eyes and fighting to be released. But Harry held firm- only one leaked out from the confinement. He would rather be trapped in this hellhole forever than have them seeing this. He didn't want to constantly see their pity for him every time after this thathe laid eyes on one of them. It was too much to handle..._

_A hand came to rest on his shoulder familarily. Harry knew who it was before he'd even turned around._

_"I'm so sorry, Harry. Was this a common occurence at the Dursleys?" Dumbledore's voice softly questioned. Harry kept his eyes firmly trained on his feet, giving a barely noticeable nod in response. The hand tightened consolingly. The other three only watched on in sadness, having no clue what to do or say to help Harry. They never knew it had been so horrible... _

_The memory shifted to Sirus' death and Dumbledore took the time to offer Harry the Almalgamater he held. "Come, Harry. You must leave this place. Take the string and empty your mind of these painful recollections. Hurry, before it is too late. You are failing in the present world." Harry's eyes widened. He didn't want to die; he couldn't! There was too much to live for and too much at stake if he did. He grabbed for the string. And missed. And missed again._

_"I can't get it!" Harry cried despairingly, trying and failing over and over. It was so close, yet each time his hand drew near, the Almalgamater seemed to dissipate or shrink away. If he couldn't grab hold, would he be stuck here forever? "Help me!"_

_"Ron. Hermione. Ginny. Help me bring Harry the Almalgamater. This is where you are needed. The Almalgamater is a tool of love, and feeds upon it to gain strength. The more love we can pour forth, the easier it will be for Harry to grasp it. The love we can produce will counter-attack the evil feeding the visions and will successfully pull Harry out," Dumbledore said. The trio came over and grabbed hold of the Almalgamater. Each thought about how much Harry meant to them, and how devastating it would be if he died or remained a captive of his mind. The string glowed, and slowly and cautiously, Harry reached out for it. This time, it didn't shirk away and Harry was able to clasp it gently. But his hold tightened when tremendous power began pulling the memories in. Harry cried out at the sheer force, feeling the power tug, pull, and even rip his mind free of the visions._

_All went black as Harry's mind became free. It was an uninterrupted, yet comforting abyss Harry fell into._

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How was the chapter? I hope you all liked it. The Almalgamater stuff is all from my head, except the word :) Dumbledore explains what it means for you though. I beg you all to take the time to review now, and let me know of what you think. Kudos!

Luv- AngelMoon Girl

ReViEw, DeArEsT rEaDeRs!


	15. Transfiguration Trance

Happy belated Easter, Passover, etc. Hope your festivities were great!

Sorry for the wait, everyone. School sucks really bad, especially long reports that take up your writing time :) I've also been sick for a while and I blame that as well for the delay. Pray I don't get sick before I upload again! Also, I'm currently in the middle of a big project for school and this may hinder my uploading. I sure as hell hope not though!

Thank you to all my fabulous reviewers! You guys are the best! I would like to acknowledge: **Harryisagod **(thanks for also reviewing my other Harry Potter fic!), **hedwig136**, **Potter-Blood **(thanks for all the emails -wink!-), **raven2547**, **Aisha-ladimoon**, and **TwilightsCalling**. Also to **Haunted **for the FF PM. All of you rock! I adore getting reviews! Please keep the reviews coming and I hope all you readers will take the time to review as well. Hopefully I'll have some new names to put up when I add the next chapter (wink!).

**Warning: **This chapter contains a lot of violence- Harry bashing on Voldemort's part. Just letting you know, it's pretty graphic, but hopefully this won't turn away readers.

Disclaimer: (I sit while in tears as I write this) "I do not own Harry Potter!" -sniff-

**It Ends Now**

Part 15: "Transfiguration Trance"

Harry opened his eyes slowly, feeling as if someone had placed lead on them. He blinked a few times, eyes unaccustomed to the searing light so contrasting from the darkness he'd been floating in for who knows how long. It felt like a thousand knives piercing his pupils. Everything was blurry and hard to make out, part of the reason because of Harry's myopia. He groped around unseeingly for his glasses.

"I do believe you're looking for these, Harry." A hand placed the glasses onto Harry's face and the world sprung into focus. Albus Dumbledore sat in the chair beside Harry's bed.

"Hello, Headmaster," Harry greeted cordially, pulling his body into a sitting position with ease. He felt no aches or pains. Dumbledore smiled and nodded his head in response. A sneaking suspicion entered Harry's mind, and he didn't hesitate to voice it. "Have you been here the whole time?" That brought forth another inquiry.

"How long have I been out of it?"

"Only a couple of hours since your friends and I relieved your mind of the memories. And yes, I have been here periodically during that hiatus of time." Harry blushed, looking down.

"You... you didn't have to stay here just for me... I know you're really busy and all..." he mumbled. Dumbledore let out a rumbling laugh, softened eyes twinkling.

"Dear boy, my concern for you takes priority over trivial things such as paperwork! My primary focus was to make sure you were alright and not showing any negative side effects."

"Negative side effects?"

"While we freed your mind of the bad visions, they sadly had to be returned one by one. The result of this could have caused a brain overload or loss of other key memories, not necessarily bad ones per say. But you rose above and came out nicely. The only side-affect I think you'll find is that you may feel very tired for the next few days, but lots of sleep will cure this in no time." Dumbledore said this just as Harry was in the middle of a large yawn. He flushed, closing his mouth in embarassment. The old man's blue eyes, if possible, shined brighter in mirth. It was true- even though Harry had been sleeping for hours, he still felt immensely fatigued. The boy also felt touched by the sincere, tender comment his Headmaster had made.

"Can I at least go back to classes tomorrow?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Tomorrow, Harry. I'm afraid any sooner is too early," the man said with a twinge of sympathy, knowing how trapped Harry must feel. "Rest, child, for tomorrow will come sooner than you realize. Sleep as much as possible." He stood up, patted Harry once on the shoulder with a benign smile, and exitted. Harry found that his eyes could stay open no longer and he drifted off into a mercifully peaceful slumber.

oOo

As Dumbledore had predicted, the next day came quickly. Madam Promfrey insisted on a last check-up before he departed, delaying Harry's quest to get to breakfast before a lot of people had gone down. He wasn't sure if he could have stood the stares and whispers, all directed at him. Or the constant retellings of what had happened for too-eager peers.

"But Madam..." Harry whined with a touch of dramatism. The matron smirked at this antagonism to her prodding.

"Now, now, Mr. Potter. I must have you in tip-top shape for classes. wouldn't want to be sluggish in a duel in Defense Against the Dark Arts, do we? Yes, I know _all _about these little combats," she said in response to his askance look. "Quite a few students found themselves in the Hospital Wing with various minor injuries and inchantments ailing them. Apparently, some had chosen to disobey Professor Livey's instructions of non-hurtful curses..." She trailed off, clucking disapprovingly. It seemed her mood had taken a slight dip, and Harry smartly remained passive as she examined him.

A few minutes later, the ordeal was over.

"Well Potter, you seem to be doing fine. I only ask that you get a lot of sleep to sap up all that extra exhaustion," she inculcated upon him. Harry agreed with extra gusto, ready to be gone of the Hospital Wing. He'd seen enough of it to last him a lifetime, and counting ceiling tiles became very boring when no distraction was in sight. Sometimes being there felt like incarceration than healing, and finally he was freed. But for how long, Harry hadn't the foggiest. He always ended up back there, somehow.

oOo

"HARRY!"

Harry had been heading to the Great Hall for breakfast, even though the mealtime was nearing conclusion, only to be mauled along the way by Ron and Hermione, who'd been heading up to see _him_. Ron clapped him on the back.

"Alive then, mate? You gave us a scare there when Dumbledore told us you weren't waking up," he said lightly, but behind the words there was relief and seriousness.

"You shouldn't have just run off into the Forest yourself!" Hermione scolded, wagging her finger at him reproachfully.

"OK, OK," Harry laughed. Then he sombered up. "I'm sure you would have done the same. Hagrid was in trouble!"

"Don't give us that, Harry! You know it'll just weaken 'Mione's resolve!" Ron teased. Hermione threw him the dirtiest look she could muster.

"Nevertheless, he should've thought it through!" she protested, not about to give up that easily. Harry sighed, wishing she would stop lecturing him. He knew he'd made some stupid mistakes, but you can't change the past. What he had done was done.

"Ah, 'Mione, you know if it was Harry we'd have gone straight in as well!" Ron persuaded, and that seemed to butter her up and quelm the arguement. Harry took her sudden silence as agreement.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the three Gryffindorks," a voice drawled from behind the trio. The three didn't even have to turn to know who was the owner of that voice. Instantly, Harry had his wand out and centered at Draco Malfoy's smirking face. His gray eyes glittered maliciously.

"What do you what, Malfoy?" Harry spat, vemon hate filling him. This particular Slytherin had never given him anything but contempt. He was a good-for-nothing snob who's father was a convicted Death Eater, only good for rubbing his nose in other's business, which is what Harry surmised the prat was doing now.

"Just come to offer a few wise words of caution, though I don't really know why I'm taking the time to," he shot nastily. Harry sneered, lip curving up.

"Oh, really?" he returned sarcastically. "First, I don't know why you're taking the time either, and second, when should I ever trust _you_?"

"If you value your life, you will," Draco hissed in a low, deadly calm voice. "He's watching. And plotting. Watch your back." And without another word, the blonde turned on his heel and stalked off. Harry lowered his wand with more than a little surprise, mouth hanging open like a fool. Was that a warning? Was Malfoy trying to _help _him? Or was it a threat?

Both Ron and Hermione felt the same, voicing his views aloud and questioning the validity of the 'warning'.

"I suppose Malfoy does have the inside scoop on Voldemort's plans, given his father's in the Dark Lord's inner circle, but-" Hermione began.

"But that's the point, isn't it? It could very well be a trap too!" Ron continued on.

"And when's Malfoy ever given us a reason to trust him?" Harry echoed of all their thoughts. No answer followed, for the Slytherin prat had never given plausibility for his words. Perhaps he'd had a change of heart or sudden feeling of kindness, but Harry doubted this. Since when did Malfoy have bouts of _niceness_?

oOo

The bell rang, indicating class dismissal. Harry gathered up his ink bottle and papers, stuffing them unceremoniously into his bag and following his friends out of Defense Against the Dark Arts. It had been a drab, monotonous class full of lecturing and note-taking, the worst kind. Extremely unexciting compared to previous classes of dueling and spellcasting. Many times, Ron had had to give Harry a good pinch or kick in the shins when it seemed the boy was nodding off. Harry had found it tediously hard to keep his eyes open all the while Professor Livey droned on and on like a broken record. Just the _word _'sleep' seemed tantalizing to the drowsy teen. Obviously, Ron and Hermione had noticed and sympathized with him.

"Come on, Harry, just a few more classes then lunch and a free period you can sleep during!" Ron cheerily nudged, elbowing Harry, who was constantly rubbing his stingy, watery eyes. The challenge of keeping them open was unbearable. He had to stifle a plethora of yawns too.

"Ron, really, Harry should be doing his _schoolwork _in his break, not-" Hermione was cut off by a pointed glare from Ron.

"Look at him, Hermione! Do you think the lad'll last anymore classes without a doze inbetween? Madam Promfrey _said _he'd be really tired, and needed rest! What better time to do so?" the freckled teen argued.

"Could you please stop talking about me like I'm not here?" Harry requested mildly, all the while rolling his eyes. "You're giving me a headache. Literally."

They reached the Transfiguration classroom just as Harry said this.

"Come in, class!" McGonagall's voice called from within. It was laced with her usual steely strictness; a professor not to be messed with and yet bearing a soft heart for her little Gryffindor cubs. One certain one in particular, who bore far too much burden for a young one his age. In an assembly of laughing and gossiping, the students entered the classroom. "Take your seats."

Ron led the other two to the last row of seats, knowing much of the class would be spent just keeping Harry awake, lest he face mortification from his peers and a scolding from the Head of House.

Harry took his seat, sighing and rubbing his itchy eyes with the heels of his palms. Bright colored spots erupted in front of his eyes, and with much effort, he pulled himself back to comprehension. Professor McGonagall was explaining today's lesson. Oh, Snape's class would be hell to deal with, Harry just knew! A purposeful bump from Hermione made Harry commit his attention to the teacher's words.

"Today's class will center on the ability of transfiguring solid, tangible objects into animals. We have previously learned how to change animals into objects, and now we are doing the opposite. Now, this is a highly complex N.E.W.T. lesson, and the transfiguring becomes harder as your animal of choice becomes larger. Therefore, the objective is to change water goblets into ants: a very small, insignificant being," McGonagall explained. She flicked her wand and goblets appeared in front of each student. "I will give you half the class, a very interminable time which should give you much time to accomplish this task. It is not too difficult the spell, if you are really putting all your effort into doing it and _NOT-DOING-YOUR-CHARMS-HOMEWORK-IN-MY-CLASS, MR. FINNIGAN_!" Seamus jumped, stuffing it away with a faint blush covering his cheeks.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"_Anyways_, to cast this spell, you simply flick your wand up and slightly to the right, clearly calling out 'Corporeali Metamorphus!' with _feel _and _force_. Be sure to be concentrating on your animal as you incant this, or the spell will fail to work. Picture the ant with your mind's eye, outline its detail and make sure you use clarity. Begin."

Harry pointed his wand at the silver chalice before him. He mustered up all his forces of concentration (which were pretty weak from fatigue), chanting:

"Corporeali Metamorphus!" A streak of gray hue flew out from his wand and twined around the goblet, but nothing happened. Unfortunately for Harry, Professor McGonagall had been right behind him, not failing to notice his unsuccessful attempt.

"Not enough concentration, Potter," she tut-tutted. "Next time envision the ant before you jump to the spellcasting. Generally it help evade you from distraction if you close your eyes." Harry smiled weakly at her, thinking he would close his eyes if he _could_, but feared he might just fall asleep in the process.

McGonagall moved off to congratulate Hermione on her immediate success on her first try, also taking the time to inform Ron that he was flicking his wand the wrong way, not to mention _completely _saying the spell wrong.

"Honestly, Weasley. Were you even _half _listening to my instructions?" she inquired, and not without a lace of sarcasm gracing her stern voice. Ron's face turned hot as he mumbled that he had, but couldn't remember the words to the spell and the right movement. In truth, he'd been too busy observing Harry for any signs of nodding off. He'd personally taken it upon himself to keep the boy awake. His protectiveness over Harry had only grown since the dementor attack. Longgone was the jealous Ron who wished he was the 'Famous Harry Potter'. No, Ron had seen a glimpse into Harry's hell, and had since then vowed to comrade and protect his best friend even more than before. He felt so blessed to have his large family, when before he would have died to be an only child like Harry. Now he deeply regretted those moments of self-pity.

oOo

Professor McGonagall clapped her hands together, drawing the class' attention.

"Very satisfactory attempts I saw for a first time, well done. I was not counting on many to succeed right away, but to those who did, I congratulate you." Professor McGonagall nodded in acknowledgement to the beaming Hermione, who's even gone so far as to turn the ant _back _into its original form of a goblet. Harry, on the other hand, glared at his goblet, which had reamined just that during the whole practice time. Ron grumbled under his breath, letting lose some colorful profanity directed at his untransfigured chalice, sitting innocently in front of him. He was giving it a dirty look, as if the object had just insulted him.

"The last half of class, we will examine the theory of animal transfiguration. The-" Harry's mind seemed to shut down at that point, blocking out the boring lecture, and the boy rested his head, elbow supporting it. His eyelids drooped, and he blinked heavily. A haze of blackness began unfurling at the edges of his vision, and Harry closed his eyes to clear it- ooh, bad mistake. The boy just couldn't seem to open them again. He sank down into blissful darkness... how wonderfully peaceful it felt... no worries... Sleep overcame Harry and in a matter of seconds, the boy was sound asleep.

oOo

_Harry sighed, discontented. A fury of blind rage possessed him, but he betrayed no flicker of this on his carefully masked face as he spoke coldly, words issuing out in a high, cruel hiss that made even the strongest Death Eater quiver, wary of their master's disappointment and anger. _

_And boy, was he angry._

_"Luciussssss... it appears your plan failed..."_

_The Death Eater kneeling prostrate in front of him twitched, but his voice was cool and collected. "I deeply regret this, Master. The boy is strong; we held not even a prayer once that cretin of a Headmaster showed up to save his _precious _Gryffindor."_

_"Then why, Lucius, were you so intent on getting them to the boy if you knew it would fail?" Harry asked softly, but the statement was icy and dangerous._

_"My lord, it was a way to form a loophole in the security. Now with the spy's firm placement, we have been able to cause a breech in the wards Dumbledore's so precariously enforced," Malfoy Sr. explained. Harry paused for thought, mulling it over._

_"The plan did have its advantages- nevertheless, you failed in the mission and that blunder is not to be overlooked," Harry drawled emotionlessly._

_"Yes, my lord," Lucius crooned, but there was a tightness to his voice and his body stance had tensed. He knew what awaited him._

_"Good. Crucio!" Harry took perverse pleasure in wathcing Lucius writhe helplessly, grunting with pain- a fine punishment for a dismal failure..._

_Harry's head abruptly seared, aching fit to burst, and it seemed to rip in two. Suddenly, Harry's thoughts were his own again, not Voldemort's sick ones, and yet... he was still looking out of Voldemort's eyes. Harry struggled, fighting to free himself of Voldemort's internal clutches, but a laugh echoed softly in his hypothetical ear, or to be more precise, his mind's ear. It was chilling and disconcerting, and Voldemort's message was clear, as if the man was saying it directly to Harry._

_'You're not getting away this time, boy...'_

oOo

Ron groaned inwardly; bored didn't even come close to explaining how he felt listening to McGonagall drone on and on about dumb animal transfiguration that he couldn't even get right! He glanced around the classroom- it appeared only Hermione was semi-conscious in the brain, but even her eyes had taken on a glazed look. It just seemed to be one of those lecture days from all the teachers.

The freckled boy chanced a look at Harry, abruptly swearing:

"Shite!" Hermione's furious face sharply turned to him, so fast she got a crick in her neck.

"Ron..." she growled under her breath. Thankfully, McGonagall's attention was elsewhere at the moment. Ron cocked his head in Harry's direction, and Hermione followed the gesture... her eyes widened, silently signalling Ron to awaken him. Ron nudged Harry gently with his elbow.

"Psst! Harry! Wake up!" he hissed. Harry didn't even twitch, but a more pressing problem rose up in front of them in the form of Professor McGonagall. Unfortunately, the Transfiguration professor did _not _take kindly to people falling asleep on her teaching time. Hands on her hips and eyes brimming with menace, the woman looked a right terror. Even Hermione flinched under that angry gaze.

"POTTER!" she barked, and nearly everyone in the room jumped out of their dazed stupor, eyes plastered on the unfolding (and quite exciting) scene. McGonagall took Harry shoulders and gave the boy a light shake to stir him, all the while ranting furiously.

"Potter, do you know how _rude _this is? I have no doubt you are tired, but nothing a Pepper-Up Potion can't cure! I could have you in deten-" She abruptly ceased her tirade, eyes widening to a point where they almost seemed as large as her square spectacles.

After a a few full seconds of shaking and loud fuming in his face, Harry hadn't even moved a muscle, and he still wasn't waking up.

"Potter... POTTER!" She shook him even more vigorously, but this time with a frantic, concerned look on her face. All the anger had melted away and fear surrounded her. Harry didn't even react, face motionless.

"Mr. Potter, are you alright? Wake up, child!" she exclaimed desperately. Gasps and whispers resounded around the room, most confused or scared.

"What's wrong with him?"

"Why won't he wake up?"

"Harry!" Hermione and Ron had evacuated their seats, rushing around the desk to flank him on either side and joining in on the rousing attempt. McGonagall too came around and felt his forehead, searching for signs of fever.

"Is he alright, professor?" Hermione whispered, holding Harry's limp hand tightly in her's. The boy's complexion had gone pale, and the lightning scar looked more pronounced than usual.

"I don't-"

Harry let out a bloodcurling scream, and it was as if a bomb went off. Flurries of students lunged out of their seats and ran at the Boy-Who-Lived and his surrounding entourage. Harry had somehow slipped free of the trio closest him, falling out of the chair and onto the cold floor. He began jerking and writhing around in agony, pained wailing and whimpers making their way out of his gritted teeth. Someone shoved the desk away, freeing the room around the boy. Tears of torment flowed down his cheeks. One lone streak of blood escaped from the red, inflamed scar, sliding sideways and off Harry's forehead to fall with a _drip! _onto the floor. Hushed whispers broke out and someone asked:

"What's that?" of the blood. McGonagall had a hand pressed over her mouth, unbelieving of what she was seeing. But that hiatus passed and she collapsed to kneel crouched beside her student. All formalities were forgotten as she tried to revive Harry, her special Gryffindor child.

"Harry! Are you alright? You've got to answer me; please wake up! Ennervate!" Harry's agony failed to cease with the spell, and McGonagall remembered an incident similar to this in the summer at Grimmauld. As realization struck and the woman recalled what the bleeding scar meant, she very much wished to swear but refrained (_Oh god, Voldemort! If I could rip you to shreds now, I would! Harry doesn't deserve this!_). McGonagall turned on her students and waved them away.

"Off with you all! Class dismissed! _No _loitering!" Everyone ran to obey, filing out quickly and casting nonplussed glances back at the still-twitching Harry. Professor McGonagall didn't catch them; her back was to them and her eyes were focused on Harry, brow furrowed as her mind schemed. Hermione and Ron never budged from their place, as McGonagall didn't reprimand them for leaving.

"Miss Granger, would you mind getting the Headmaster? I do believe he can help more than I," McGonagall said in an eerily-calm voice despite the situation. Perhaps it was because Harry himself had grown calmer- she had her hand resting on his quickly rising and falling chest, and the loving support it brought seemed to stabilize the boy. It was as if he could feel her reassuring prescence through the simple touch.

Hermione wasn't keen on leaving Harry, but she knew she must. There was no more McGonagall could do. The brain child stood and made for the door, but whirled around when McGonagall let out a chilling scream of horror, her own yells rising in a din with Harry's renewed ones. Hermione gulped back overwhelming revulsion and Ron had recoiled from Harry's body as if it were surrounded by spiders, white as sheet.

Harry's body was filling with horrible cuts, slashes, welts, burns, and more- vile obscenities not supposed to be seen on one so young and innocent. Terrified, tormented screams were what Harry let out, and the marks kept coming as Harry struggled with an unknown captive. The other three had been frozen in fear, but McGonagall was the first to snap back.

"Granger! Get the Headmaster, now!" she ordered shrillily, and Hermione didn't hesitate to run full-force down the corridors, uncaring of the noise she produced. Ron was visibly shaking as he observed his anguished friend.

"What's... going on?" he inquired softly, voice barely above a whisper, gulping back a wave of nausea as a particularily nasty, bleeding slash appeared on Harry's twisted face.

"I... I'm not sure, Weasley. Dumbledore will know," she said confidently, and something her her voice told Ron that the teacher was trying to reassure herself as well.

"D'you want me to get Madam Promfrey?" Ron questioned, not wanting to leave Harry but feeling useless doing nothing. It was hard watching your friend scream and writhe while you're just sitting there. McGonagall had procured a hankerchief and was trying to mop up the wounds,but fresh ones kept appearing and made the task futile.

"Yes...yes, I think you should. Harry needs to be tended to immediately," she dismissively answered, drawing back the hankerchief and wringing it in anxiety. Ron scampered off, hoping the nurse was not busy.

"Oh Albus, where are you?" the teacher moaned. She took to cleaning the child up again, also wiping the sweat out of his eyes. The act helped her keep going and not just break down in tears at the situation. Why was this happening? How could someone have enough hate to do this to an innocent child? Harry groaned and shuddered unpleasantly, when a grave Dumbledore and Hermione entered.

"Albus!"

"I'm sorry I'm a bit late, professor. I didn't know the password," Hermione hastened to explain.

"No, I'm sorry. In my hurry I forgot to give you it," the Transfiguration professor contradicted. Dumbledore raised a hand.

"No harm done, Minerva. I was just leaving my office and managed to catch Hermione as she left-"

The man was cut off by Ron and Madam Promfrey bursting into the room, both panting and having run the whole way.

"I...got her..." Ron gasped out, clutching a stitch in his side. Madam Promfrey gained her bearings instantly.

"Where is he? Where's Harry?" the matron demanded, potions and wand already at the ready.

"Over here, Poppy," McGonagall gestured from her spot on the floor. She needn't have informed; Harry's cries were growing again. Everyone in the room gathered around the boy and Dumbledore placed his hands on Harry's forehead, not caring that his hands were now tainted with deep, rich red moisture.

"Voldemort has undoubtedly trapped Harry somehow in his mind. I am going to attempt to draw him back." The room was totally silent (aside from Harry's shouts amd Promfrey's whispered healing spells) as Dumbledore closed his eyes, an invisible yet powerful magical aura surrounding him.

oOo

_After Voldemort had spoken that chilling phrase, Harry had felt ridden by fear. He was unable to awake and bring himself back to reality; unable to free himself from this monster's mind. Voldemort's vision went dark, and Harry found himself in an abyss with no beginning or end. Infinitely cold and lonely._

_"You and I are going to have some fun, Potter," Voldemort's voice spoke amusedly and forebodingly. Before Harry could respond, a horrible, tearing sensation blasted through him and again it felt like he was being ripped in two, but this pain was much worse than before and Harry let out a bloodcurdling scream.Then all at once, Harry himself was bodily on the ground, staring up into the gleaming red eyes of Lord Voldemort._

_"Hello, Harry."_

_"Voldemort," Harry acknowledged, spitting out the name with as much hate as he could put in such a despicable name. "What do you want?"_

_"What do I want? What doI_ want_? Why Harry, I want revenge. Revenge for not dying as planned by the dementors, as you saw just now. I want to watch you scream. I want you to give me the full content of the prophecy as you give it up in agony, pleading for mercy like your mudblood mother before she died for you," the man said, eyes alight in excitement and nostrils dilating at the prospect. The gleam in his eyes seemed to grow brighter as he went on._

_"I'll never give up the prophecy," Harry retorted. "I'm not afraid of you. You can't hurt me here! This is a dream!"_

_"And pain is but magnification of our minds. It can still be felt in illusion because our minds have recorded its feeling into their hard drives per say, you fool," Voldemort replied silkily and smoothly. "You will see how very wrong you are. You are in my mind now. You can summon no protection here while I reign." And without even a wand, Voldemort pointed his skeletal thin, long-fingered hand at Harry._

_"CRUCIO!" Harry screamed, white hot knives shredding through his body that seemed full of reverbrating electricity. Spikes were neing driven into him, someone was pounding his head with fists, his head seemed on fire, burning intensely and enough to drive anyone insane... then the feeling was gone. But Voldemort was right; it felt just as real as the true thing. _

_Harry staggered up and threw himself at Voldemort, trying to hurt him; pound him; make him feel the pain of torture... the man dodged the assault, summoning a whip just as Harry crashed into whatfelt like rough, stony ground. However, all he saw was darkness. Harry gasped as he looked at his hand and knees, skinned and bruised. How was this possible? But this was Voldemort's mind, and anything and everything was accounted for by him._

_Harry saw the whip fly back and realized then that any attempt of escape or defense was vain, for even as Harry cringed and tried to crouch away from the offensive missile, it flew down at him and whipped the boy across the stomach. Harry screamed again, the red hot burning aching fit to burst. Voldemort laughed, raising the whip and striking it down over and over. Harry lost track of time and how many hits he was delivered. Everything seemed to meld together._

_"You like that, boy? I want you to suffer! Tell me the prophecy and then, only then, will I relent!" Harry twitched as the whip dug deep into his back, whimpering. Each time Voldemort tore the obscene weapon out, some of Harry's flesh followed. It killed like hell! Bloodied and beaten, tears flowing freely, Harry still didn't give in. He would not tell this vile creature the prophecy. What was the point? He would just be ensuring his own downfall if Voldemort ever knew the rest! Besides, who was to say the man would just let him free after? 'Oh, Harry, now that I know I must either kill you or be killed by you, I'm just gonna let you free and you can go home and prance around in the prairie!' Sure. Voldemort was a manipulating freak and all his promises owned up to nothing._

_"I'm... not stupid, Voldemort," Harry gasped out, despite the howls of pain erupting from everywhere. "You'll never squander it from me!"_

_SLAP!_

_Voldemort's hand connected with his face and Harry felt his lip split, gushing out more blood. Lights erupted in front of his eyes at the impact._

_"The prophecy, Potter! Last chance! I can send you back to the reality, albeit with some bruises, but not as many as I'll give you if you refuse! Though I cannot kill you in this realm, I can still cause you more pain than you have ever felt in your entire life. You will feel the flames of Hell licking at you! You will return to real life with more scars than you can count; ones worse and more visible than the one engraved on your damned head!"_

_Harry's only response was to spit in Voldemort's face, defiant till the end._

_CRACK!_

_The whip hit home again. Harry twitched, feeling blood in his mouth from biting his tongue too hard. He let out no sound, because he was tired of giving Voldemort that pleasure. The pain was numbing- the more pain he took, the less effect it had. The boy grew gruesomely used to it, to an extent. What was the use of reacting? He was a completely helpless prisoner- no, worse than. There was no way he could defend himself. Not one._

_Unbeknownst to Harry, Voldemort had magicked a torch in place of the whip, a fire flaming red hot embers at the top. A hand grabbed Harry's hair and wrenched him up till he was face to face with a wrathful Voldemort. Their noses touched, and Harry's scar seemed to burn with the same intensity as the torch. He tried to pull away in fear, eyes watering as the cold hands gripped tighter._

_"Perhaps this will be effective against your stupid Gryffindor insolence," The Dark lord whispered dangerously. He thrust the torch against Harry's belly. This time, Harry did shout; he couldn't help it. He cried (not giving a damn if Voldemort saw; his mind was only aware of the intense anguish), he struggled, he fought, he begged even, but there was no release to such unbearable torment as the fire burned into his flesh. God, he want to die! Even the whipping and Cruciatus did not compare to the physical **agony**!_

_Then something happened._

_Voldemort flickered, and he dropped Harry, who was in too much pain to speculate. It happened again; and Voldemort disappeared momentarily. This time, Harry knew it wasn't just his blurring vision playing a trick on him. A warmth was almost drawing Harry backwards, away from Voldemort. The Dark Lord shouted out, but his voice seemed... distant. However, his words were screamed so loudly that Harry, even in his deteriorating, agony-filled state, heard him._

_"I'LL KILL YOU, DUMBLEDORE! THE BOY IS MINE!" But then Harry's mind went blank and all went totally black. _

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Wow, what a long chapter! The next one is: "Halloween". Thanks to all my readers for sticking with me even after this wait. Hopefully the next one won't be as long but no guarantees as I have a long project coming up.

AngelMoon Girl: "Please, please, review!"

Albus Dumbledore: "Alas, if you do not, she will be reduced to tears."

Harry Potter: "So review!"

Voldemort: "Or I'll sic myself on you. MUHAHAHAHAHA!"

-Harry bops him over the head-

Harry: "Oh sod off, Voldy."

**review review review review review review review review review review review review review**

Thanks! Angel


	16. Halloween

Oh my god, I'm sooooo sorry for the wait! Has it really been over a month? I'm so sorry, but finals are coming and I'm busy preparing, so as much as it pains me to say this, the next chapter MAY (but not indefinitely) also be delayed. This chappie's a bit more light-hearted than the others, but the next few upcoming chapters is where the action and fun really starts rolling... :oD

Thank you to all my wonderful reviewers; you make me sing and dance and keep writing! I adore getting them! They're all so sweet and oh my god, MORE MORE MORE keep 'um coming, please! I see a lot are reading (over 7000 clicks to this story so far! OMG I'm in Heaven!) but you've got to REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!

Thanks to all who did last chapter! **Haunted**, **darkmarkgirl**, **hedwig136**, **Gabwr**, **Aisha-ladimoon**, **twilightscalling**, **Baldur**, **BiggestDumbledoreFan**, and **Hermionegirl4ever**. Thank you soooooo much, m'dears! Totally luv ya. Comments to your reviews are after the story.

Oh yes, and the gravestone dates I completely made up. You'll have to ask JK Rowling for the real dates.

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling. Maybe one day I'll die and be reincarnated as her, but the odds are against me :o) -LOL-

**It Ends Now**

Part 16: "Halloween"

Harry opened his eyes and groaned, sore all over. How completely ironic compared to last time he awoken in the Hospital Wing! This time, the boy was in a heck of a lot more pain.A blurried person stood in front of him and Harry squinted to try and make them out.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, you're awake! So glad you decided to join us back in the world of the living!" the mediwitch proclaimed teasingly, giving Harry his glasses that he promptly placed on his face. Then the boy sat up, holding back a wince as his sore joints protested against the movement.

"And how are we feeling today?"

" 'We' are feeling fine," Harry chuckled. "Maybe a little achy...but..." In truth, his stomach burned ferociously and his muscles throbbed, but Harry wasn't about to admit that. Madam Pomfrey, being the persceptive nurse she was, saw right through this.

"Yes, that's to be expected," she gingerly broached, unsure if Harry remembered what had happened with him and Voldemort yet, but she wasn't about to remind him. If Harry did, he was doing a perfect job masking his feelings.

The middle aged matron bustled over to her cabinets and withdrew several phials of healing potions. Then she returned to Harry, who was desperately trying to hold back a grimace due to the combined irritation of having to gulp down all this bad tasting medication and at the pain inflicted by his injuries.

Madam Pomfrey shoved the vials into his hands, perching herself on the edge of his bed. "Drink these quickly. One is a painkiller and will help alleviate some of the discomfort you are feeling." Harry did as he was told, making a face as the sour liquid ran down his throat. The mediwitch's eyes softened as she gave Harry a swift look-over.

"I'm thinking perhaps I should put your nameplate over this bed and reserve it for you, you are here so much. Or maybe a plaque above the bed commemorating your survival through your Hogwarts years after graduation," she only half-joked.

If _I survive..._

Harry pushed these negative thoughts aside and met Madam Pomfrey match for match.

"Or you could just move me in here permanently! That'd save you all the hassle," he teased. Madam Pomfrey gave a ringing laugh and Harry smirked cheekily at her.

"Perhaps! You already constitute most of my time; I have no clue who'll keep me this busy when you're gone... maybe a little Potter?" Harry blushed at the subtle slyness of the comment and chose to ignore it all together. Gods, he did not want to have _that _conversation with his nurse!

"I'll miss you too, Madam Pomfrey."

"Why you little charmer, you!" And Madam Pomfrey did something she'd never done before- she tousled Harry's hair in what he would classify as an affectionate way.

"Potter, I've seen you so much over the years that I seem to have grown fond of you!" Harry blushed. "Just see to it that I don't see you as often." She winked and Harry knew that she meant well; neither wanted Harry to be a permanent resident of the infirmary. She wanted Harry to live and be healthy, but both knew perfectly well this was wishful thinking. Harry was the Chosen One. And that name came with a price.

"I'll be in my office if you need me," she informed, getting up and sweeping out of the ward and into a conjoined room attatched. Harry settled back into the pillows and let slumber claim him. The fatigue from the memory replacing was still there, mixed with the pain killer dosage that always left him a bit dazed.

oOo

"It's up to...tell, Ron!"

"I...know, I... but Harry..."

The sound of his friend's arguing voices permeated Harry's consciousness and slowly drew him out of the abyss. Harry groaned, the pain pulsating worse and worse as he became more aware of his surroundings. Someone pressed a cool glass to his parched lips and he gulped it down greedily; thirstily. Harry opened his eyes.

Ron and Hermione sat in chairs beside his bed, looking nothing short than frazzled and anxious. Madam Pomfrey was waving her wand over him in examination. She noticed he was fully awake.

"I laced a bit of pain-reliever potion into the water I just gave you, just so you know, Harry. I'll give you 15 minutes to talk to your friends." Then she left.

Harry turned to his friends expectantly, but both seemed keen on avoiding his gaze. Hermione fiddled with a loose piece of string on the starched white bedspread.

"Yes?" Harry prodded, unnerved by their silence. Ron shot Hermione a nod as if to tell her to get on with it. Hermione cleared her throat, obviously nervous.

"Harry...we... we never really got to talk to you about the memories we saw..." she began slowly. Now it was Harry who looked away.

"I don't want to talk about it," he said loudly and clearly.

"We know you don't, and it's your life, but just hear me out. You're our best friend ever and we love you and care about you. But you can't keep everything bottled in to rot you from the inside out. If you ever want to talk or tell us _anything_, we'll listen," Hermione said earnestly.

"Boy, Harry, you had us scared there in Transfiguration yesterday. McGonagall nearly had a coronary!" Ron joked humorously, trying to lighten up the conversation. "She's already been up to see you just to make sure you were OK."

Suddenly and out of the blue, Hermione exclaimed:

"Damn Voldemort!" Harry and Ron looked over at her in shock. Her cheeks were flushed red in anger. Harry's mouth popped open and Ron jumped up and back in exaggerated fear. It was the first time either had ever heard Hermione openly swear. Ron brandished his wand and centered it at a nonplussed Hermione.

"Who are you and what have you done with Hermione!" he shouted. Harry couldn't hold back a snicker as Hermione's face contorted in annoyance and she pushed Ron.

"Shove off, Ron!" Ron grinned cheekily and pocketed his wand.

"Alright then, all funny business aside, what's got your wand in a knot?"

"Voldemort," the girl seethed as Ron muttered under his breath 'No kidding'. "It's not fair! What he does to Harry is just cruel and unfair!" Harry cocked an eyebrow.

"Oh, so you think I should politely ask Voldemort if he can not shoot killing curses at me for a moment so I can power-up and be in a fair advantage?"

"No, it's just... Urgh! Why does he always focus on you? Why can't he leave you alone?"

Harry swallowed loudly. He knew perfectly why. The prophecy. And Dumbledore _had_ asked Harry to tell Ron and Hermione at some point... Harry knew that time had come. They deserved as much.

"I s'pose it's because of the prophecy," Harry tried to say nonchalantly as he deliberately stared out the opposite window. He didn't want to see their faces when the truth came out. He felt his chest constrict with fear, wondering what their reactions would be. Would they reject him? Part of Harry hoped so, then they wouldn't be in danger because of him.

"W-what?" Ron's voice said shakily.

"But it broke!" Hermione protested. "You were dragging Neville up the stairs in the... the dias room (Harry flinched) and it broke! No one heard what it said, you said so yourself!"

"I lied," Harry stated simply in a voice barely above a whisper, but he was heard just fine by his two friends in the near-silent room. "Dumbledore did. And he told me."

"What is it?" Hermione questioned in a hushed voice. Harry took a deep breath and recited the words that had been plaguing him constantly since he'd heard them the first time.

When he was finished, he chanced a look over at the other two. Ron had gone pasty white and Hermione had a hand over her mouth. Apparently, _Neither can live while the other survives _was not lost on either of them.

"But...but Harry...this means..." Ron stuttered. Hermione let out a sort of whimper, then pulled Harry into a bone-crushing hug.

"Is there a way it isn't you?" Ron near-pleaded. Harry shook his head.

"My scar 'Marks me as his equal', so it's final. I'm the Chosen One."

"Are you scared?" Herminoe whispered.

"Scared? Of course I'm scared! I'm destined to kill or be killed by the Darkest Wizard of our age! How can I bloody not be? I don't stand a chance!" Harry vented, letting loose some of the feelings he had bottled up.

"Yes, you do. You have us on your side. You have Dumbledore. Hell, you have the whole bloody Order! And we're not going to let you fail," Ron burst out, fierce determination shining brightly in his eyes. Harry was taken aback at this. All along, he'd been thinking this was _his _battle, to face alone. But thanks to Ron, he saw things clearer. He would not be the solitary one. His friends and protectors would be at his side till the end. Sure, he was the one to defeat Voldemort, but who said no one else could deal the slimy git a few knocks as well? Harry was positive the Order could cause ol' MouldyVort more damage than he ever could.

"Thank you. You... don't know how much this means..." Harry softly thanked, gratified as his eyes travelled to each in turn.

oOo

A week later, Harry was finally released from the infirmary by Madam Pomfrey, under strict orders that he was not to over-exert himself and stop whatever he was doing if he felt faint. Harry also had to take rejeuvination potions every night to gain back his zapped strength. And so it was with great joy that he left the Hospital Ward, accompanied by Ron and Hermione.

Classes went smoothly by without incident, the same as always, besides the mountain of homework Harry had to complete from his absence. Luckily for him, the teachers took pity (especially McGonagall)... well, all except Snape. Letting Harry off easy would have been as rare as seeing him hop around on one foot, smiling geniunely and throwing out candy to Gryffindors. _Never_. But even the gloomy Potions Master's scathing remarks couldn't dampen Harry's high spirits. Soon enough, it was the last period of the day before dinner- Care of Magical Creatures with Hagrid.

_A perfect ending to a perfect day, _Harry voiced aloud to his mates as the trio traveled down to the familar hut. Smoke billowed out of Hagrid's chimney and into the frosty air- cold weather was fast approaching, and all the students had taken to wearing their heaviest cloaks to keep out the chill. It wouldn't be long till Hogwarts grounds were covered in pure white snow. Harry could tell it was going to be a frigid winter- it was only the middle of October and already the weather was this way.

"It would be the perfect ending to a perfect day," Ron agreed to Harry's comment. "Just as long as Hagrid doesn't have Skrewts for today's lesson, or some other dangerous creature." Harry could only concur.

Hermione looked out over the top of the Forest. "I wonder how Grawp is?"

"I don't know, but I don't really want to either," Ron replied darkly.

"Thank God Hagrid forgot about those English lessons he'd been planning for him-" Harry had to stop and catch his breath, wheezing.

"You OK, Harry?" Ron immediately inquired, he and Hermione halting their trek to flank Harry worriedly. The boy smiled weakly, breathing better now as he straightened up.

"Just have to catch my breath is all. I never realized how long a walk it is down to Hagrid's from the Common Room..."

"Harry, you shouldn't be taxing yourself! You should be resting after walking all day; you're still healing! Hagrid would understand if we didn't-"

"NO!" Harry exclaimed, breaking Hermione off in mid-scold. He seemed to gather his wits and spoke in a calmer voice and lower tone. "I'm fine, Hermione. Really. I can make it to Hagrid's; I'm not weak! I just need a break or two..."

"No one's calling you weak, Harry," Ron mumbled, but was sure Harry heard him.

In the end, Harry's stubbornness won out and they all finally made it down to Care of Magical Creatures in one piece. Harry, however, was once again huffing a bit. Malfoy sneered jeeringly as he approached, a few minutes late. Crabbe and Goyle just glared at him stupidly from beside Malfoy.

"Having trouble, Potty?"

"Shut up!"

"Quiet, y'all!" Hagrid's voice boomed. He stood in front of a large enclosure and clapped his hands for attention. The noise echoed around the edges of the Forest.

"Now, I gotta real treat fer y'all today..." The giant paused for dramatic pause, thinking people to be baiting their breath in anticipation. In reality, the effect was quite the opposite. People exchanged nervous glances. Anything Hagrid was excited about was usually illegal or dangerous. "I've found a very rare, Crumple-Horned Snorkack!"

To most, this was met with confusion and blank stares. But the trio's mouths dropped open. Those things were _real_? Harry made a mental note to tell Luna about their lesson, if she didn't already know. So it wasn't one of her odd fantasies...

The Crumple-Horned Snorkack was a dog-sized creature, very hairy and golden like a hag. Perched crookedly on its head were two very long, sharp looking horns. Harry fancied they were _very _useful when impaling things in one good swipe. Many people seemed to be thinking along the same line, for the distance between the Snorkack and the students lengthened as many edged away in caution. The creature snorted, rearing its shaggy head and roaring. More scooted away, the Gryffindor threesome included. Luckily, Hagrid didn't seem to notice so took no offense.

"Everyone, meet Snuckles," Hagrid said cheerily to the class and gesturing to the Snorkack. The poor man had no idea the effect this had on Harry. The boy gasped for breath; his lungs didn't seem to be working properly and he felt as if someone was squeezing his chest, or filling it to the brim with ice cold water. Vaguely, he felt Hermione grab his arm as his footing slacked, limbs useless.

Snuckles... Snuffles..._Sirius_...

"Harry, he didn't know, Hagrid didn't mean to, he had no clue..." Hermione whispered furiously in Harry's ear, saying this so fast it sounded like a hiss. Harry gulped and nodded, blinking away his mysteriously blurry vision and trying to get his breathing back to normal.

"It's OK, mate," Ron tried to comfort, his hand also clutching Harry under the elbow. "D'you wanna sit down? No one will notice or care, they know you've been in the Hospital. Uh oh, Hagrid's looking-!" All too late, Hagrid took in Harry's white features and addressed him.

" 'Arry, you alright? Look'in a bit peaky there..."

Harry swallowed, not trusting his voice for fear it would crack, but speaking anyway. "M'fine. Just a bit tired; still healing, you know..."

Hagrid believed the alibi, continuing on with teaching. Harry stayed silent the rest of the time, lost in his own morose thoughts. The hole he'd thought was healed back been cracked again...

oOo

A gust of wind kicked up, blowing Harry's unruly hair into his face. The boy brushed it away with a trace of irritation.

"OK, team. It's our big one. The first game with Ravenclaw... after all our practices, our team's as good as gold. We can win this!" he exclaimed. The Gryffindor House team cheered, stirred on by his pep talk. As one, they traveled down to the Pitch, each sporting their brooms. Ominous, heavy gray clouds loomed overhead, weighing down the sky and looking ready to downpour at any given moment. Today was Halloween, and the atmosphere seemed to fit the gloominess Halloween was famed for. Harry tried to forget what had happened this day; push it to the back of his mind...

They entered the Pitch to thunderous clapping and cheering. Harry beamed up at where Ron and Hermione were screaming themselves silly.

"GO GRYFFINDOR! GO HARRY! GO GINNY!" they yelled. Harry waved at them and out of the corner of his eye saw Ginny do the same. Madam Hooch blew her whistle, the sound magically amplified to reach across the whole field.

"Captains, shake hands," she ordered, and Harry moved foward to grasp the Ravenclaw Captain's hand, a surly boy named Roger Corpsie, who shared the same name as the former (now graduated) Ravenclaw Captain, Roger Davies.

"Mount your brooms!" Hooch barked, and the teams followed command. Harry could feel his anticipation rising, and his broom vibrated slightly as if it too felt the same way. Both were ready to take off at breakneck speed.

The quaffle was released, and the game began.

Harry launched into the air, hair flapping wildly and heart pumping with excitement. It was an exhilarating feeling, this, and all Harry's cares and worries flew away as he did. He had not a care in the world at this moment, not even Voldemort. _This _was where he truely belonged.

His eyes scanned the Pitch for any sign of the snitch, but even his skilled eyes could not spot the winged ball. He did a few loop-de-loops to let off some of his feelings, then contented himself to watching his team in action for a moment.

The new players were playing splendidly, despite minor mistakes, but it was only their first game and Harry knew that the initial nervousness and hesitation associated with the first game would disappear with time.

Ravenclaw chaser Rose Rolden shot off at the Gryffindor goal posts, quaffle in hand. Steven lugged a bludger at her, but the petite girl shifted her broom and it flew harmlessly past. Almost at the goal post, Rose threw it hard at the left wing. Ron, with fierce determination shining in his eyes, lunged at the ball and caught it. Harry cheered mentally for Ron. His confidence level had really soared since Gryffindor's win last year.

Ron tossed the red ball to Ginny, who in turned passed it to Maria, who flung it at Katie. The pigtailed 7th year tucked it under her experienced arm and shot off at Ravenclaw's goals, then centered and threw. The Ravenclaw Keeper, who'd been expecting a feint, was hovering closer to the left goal. When the ball began spinning at the right post, the Keeper hurled himself at it but was too late. The ball went through the circular goal to joyous screaming and thumping in the Gryffindor section. Gryffindor 10, Ravenclaw 0. And they were only five minutes into the game.

Harry dragged his attention back to searching for the snitch. At one point he had spotted a flicker of gold, but it turned out to be a Hufflepuff's hairpin. Soon the score was Gryffindor 80, Ravenclaw 50. They had been playing for 45 minutes already, and Harry reckoned he should probably look harder and watch the game less.

Skimming the Pitch with narrowed eyes, Harry kept a look-out for the snitch, all the while keeping a close tab on the new Ravenclaw seeker. Cho had resigned after falling behind in her schoolwork. Harry didn't mind; he was over her now. Her emotional mood swings got to him and irked the boy to no end. The new seeker was a fifth year boy, an amateur compared to Harry. He had much to learn about the game, and the concept of secrecy when finding the snitch, as Harry discovered not a minute later. The tweedy boy shot off after the snitch he'd seen, even though it was far away from him and closer to Harry, which gave it totally away. With ease, Harry levelled himself in the direction of the snitch, then shot off at it. Unexpectedly, the snitch changed direction and rocketed off towards the ground. Harry descended and so did the skinny fifth year, but evidently his nerves couldn't take the dive and he let Harry be the one to break his neck in the steep descent.

Harry smirked as he observed this. _Spineless wimp_. Then he directed his attention back to where the snitch was descending fast.

10 feet till the ground.

5 feet till the ground.

3 feet.

2 feet.

The snitch moved up at the last minute and so did Harry, pulling up spectacularily amist screams from the crowd. Even the other seeker was open-mouthed in awe and to Harry's disgust, something fast approaching adoration. _Great, _Harry thought, _another Colin Creevey to add to the We Love Harry Potter club_.

Harry's hand closed over the snitch and he pumped the air in celebration. They'd won, and his team had played amazingly.

_Quidditch Cup, here we come, _Harry thought happily as his beaming teammates flew at him, cheering. Ron thumped him on the back and the beaters whooped.

"Amazing dive, Harry!" Maria squealed. Ginny kissed his cheek then pulled away, turning red in embarassment. Harry blushed as red as a firetruck.

"Oi, that's my sister! Gross!" Ron cried. If possible, Harry and Ginny flushed harder.

"Shut up," Harry snapped good-naturedly, and Ginny growled menacingly at her brother.

"Ronald, why don't you just go snog Hermione in celebration or something, rather than teasing us?" she scowled, yet said the comment sweetly.

Ron joined in on the blushing game.

oOo

That afternoon before the Halloween Feast saw Gryffindor Common Room ina full blown party. A few seventh years had even managed to obtain some FireWhiskey from the kitchens, and now many students were passed out all over the place. Hermione was beside herself with fury, docking points left and right to the dismay of Ron, who's been trying to sneak some.

"_NO_, Ron!" Hermione shrieked, yanking the bottle he'd been about to swig from the red-head's hands.

"Aw, but 'Mione, I've never had any before..." Ron whined pathetically with puppy dog eyes in place. However, they had no effect whatsoever on Hermione, who stiffened up angrily at his words.

"And you never will as long as I'm around!" she snapped fiendishly. The girl whirled around and tore another glass out of a third year's grasp. "10 more points from Gryffindor, and if I catch you with another, it'll be 30! Honestly, the nerve! Whoever did this is going to pay big time! Giving underage wizards an illegal substance... (Hermione clicked her tongue) Just wait till McGonagall comes up here, she'll have kittens! This whole Common Room is going to have detention for the rest of their school year!"

Harry sighed, a headache coming on from all the noise. He rubbed his temples and unbeknownst to Ron and Hermione, snuck up into his dorm and collapsed onto his four-poster bed.

"It's a madhouse down there, isn't it?" a quiet voice asked. Harry looked up and saw Neville leafing through a Herbology book.

"Yah. Some seventh year managed to swipe FireWhiskey, and you can imagine the ruckus... Hermione's gone crazy in rage..."

Neville nodded, small smile in place. He could definitely picture Hermione at her worst, and pitied anyone who was currently on her bad side. Then he stood up.

"I've got to return this book to the library before Madam Pince hunts me down and eats me for dinner for not giving it back yet. It's overdue," he joked, brandishing _Godfrey Gillson's Guide to Gillyweed Usage_. Harry chuckled and Neville left.

Harry turned to his trunk and noticed his photo album laying atop his invisibility cloak. A sad look crossed over Harry's face and he retrieved it. Today was the 15th anniversary of their murder. While ignorant others may have been rejoicing over the 15th anniversary of You-Know-Who's downfall before his second return to power, Harry was mourning the loss of his parents. He turned the pages of the album in total silence, basking in the look of love on his parent's faces, frozen in time, as they gazed up at him kindly and all smiles. They did not know of the horror that would await them this very night. If only they could see him now...

The longing became so much that Harry had to shut the book and reverently put it away before he began bawling his eyes out. He needed to talk to someone, was what he really needed at the moment. Someone who shared his current pain...

A glint of silver caught his eye and Harry recognized Sirius' old mirror also in his trunk. Maybe he could talk to Remus. Surely the werewolf must be feeling the same way; James and Lily were his closest friends besides Sirius (Wormtail no longer counted, and Harry also tried to forget that this was also the night the rat had solded out his friends, thus bringing about their deaths. Harry hoped he rotted in Hell for it).

Harry took the mirror into his hands and held his face close, breath fogging the glass. "Remus Lupin."

No response. A little louder. "Remus Lupin."

Still nothing. Perhaps he was on Order duty. Obviously he didn't have the mirror on him. Harry's face fell. He had wanted the man to cheer him up with stories about the Marauders in their glorious, prank-filled school days, before they had had to worry to much about the threat of Voldemort and involvement in the Order.

It was as Harry was putting away the mirror that his scar burned as if being touched with a white hot poker. Harry dropped the mirror in his agony to let his hands fly his his head, a streak of dismay going through him as he heard through his haze of pain the distinct sound of glass shattering. The mirror was broken _again_, but this time not purposely. Suddenly, just like in the summer while flying with the Weasleys, Harry was drawn into a vision, but this time all he got were glimpses of things happening because of the Occlumency he was trying to use to block them out, but they affected Harry nonetheless.

He saw through Voldemort's eyes a Death Eater initiation, where a new Death Eater received the Mark and Cruciatus, then bowed to his Master and bent to kiss the creature's robes... The scene switched.

He saw chaos; people screaming and running in every direction as buildings burned and collapsed. One flaming one in particular caught Harry's eyes and he felt nostalgic, but then everything went black and he was back in the dorm room, panting.

"Reparo," he hissed at the broken mirror, then the boy lunged off his bed, racing downstairs and ingoring the babble of people calling to him and offering him FireWhiskey as he whoosed past. Harry ignored them, eyes wide as he ran to get Dumbledore.

He passed Ron and Hermione, who went,

"Harry, what-" but by that second word Harry was gone and out the Fat Lady's portrait, racing at breakneck speed down corridors and somehow avoiding collision. His heart beat wildly; he knew that had been a true vision; he could just tell.

Dumbledore was exitting the Gargoyle staircase to head down to the Feast just as Harry skidded to a halt in front of him. The old Headmaster took one look at the pale, panting teen who's scar looked more pronounced than usual and said,

"Why don't we head back into my office, hmm?"

"Please, sir."

Harry followed Dumbledore up the revolving staircase, fidgeting as it rose. The old man beside him regarded this with some concern. He looked down.

"Are you alright, dear boy?"

"Fine," Harry's automatic reply was, even though he reached up to rub his still-prickling scar. Dumbledore made no response, but thought that he would very much like to obliviate the word 'Fine' from this child's vocabulary. The staircase stopped and Dumbledore reached out an arm to lead Harry into the office.

"Please sit down," Dumbledore requested as he did so behind his desk. "Lemon drop?"

Harry gladly took the pro-offered candy so as to take his mind off the pain still present in his scar. Oddly, as he sucked he felt calmer as the sticky sweet melted in his mouth. A small smile played on Dumbledore's lips as he watched Harry become visibly less agitated. His tense shoulders relaxed. The old Headmaster steepled his fingers together, waiting for Harry to begin talking.

"Sir, I had a vision... well, two actually but both were just glimpses because I was trying to use Occlumency to block them..." Harry began.

"What were they of?"

"Well, the first was a Death Eater initiation for a new Death Eater, but I couldn't see any of their features because they were hooded. The second was where Death Eaters were burning a town."

Harry shuddered. "It was horrible. People were screaming and dying. There was this one house that seemed... familar, almost. I don't know why."

Dumbledore nodded somberly. "The attack the Order was aware of. We sent some people out to try and quelm the violence and capture the Death Eaters, but by the time we arrived they were gone and most of the town, demolished. I'm sorry, Harry, but it was Godric's Hollow. Your parent's house was one of those burned. It is gone."

Harry felt his heart drop and stomach constrict.

"Why?" he croaked.

"Apparently, Voldemort knew the effect this would have on you and purposely sent you that vision. He also wanted people to know that he was back and in power; striking terror into people by burning the place where his so-called downfall had been," Dumbledore stated with sympathy weaved into his voice.

Harry looked down because tears began filling his eyes. He dared not look up and show Dumbledore. He heard a creak, and so cautiously looked up to see Dumbledore crouched right in front of him. He place a wrinkled hand on Harry's knee.

"Dear boy, never be afraid or ashamed to cry. Especially in front of people. It is not a sign of weakness," he whispered softly. Harry nodded, letting a few of the tears he'd been holding back spill over. Tenderly, the old man wiped them away with the pad of his thumb.

"Professor, do you know what I'd always hoped? To one day be able to visit Godric's Hollow, just once. To be able to see and go into the house my family and I had once been happy in... but now..." Harry's voice grew softer and more strained with each word, until at the end he was sobbing at what he'd lost. The sadness of his parent's anniversary of their murder and the loss of Godric's Hollow were too much for the already burdened teen.

Dumbledore gathered the child into his arms and rocked him back and forth, making soft, soothing noises as he let Harry empty out his sorrow with tears. He felt his robes and beard grow wet as Harry burrowed his face into them, small body wracked with each sob.

At last, Harry calmed and pulled away, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "I'm sorry."

"No, my Harry. I am your mentor and confidant. I care for you. You are like a grandson to me, child, and I do not want you apologizing for something you don't need to be sorry for," Dumbledore objected kindly. Harry nodded, giving a light sniffle.

Dumbledore's eyes brightened a little. "There is something I can show you that may make you feel better, if you'll permit me. Forgive an old man's senility, but I had forgotten until now that your parents had been buried here at Hogwarts."

Harry's eyes widened. "Here?"

"Hogwarts has an old graveyard a little into the Forest. It is hardly known of because we do not want our students vandalizing it. If you would like, I can show you now."

"Yes, sir!" Harry complied, anticipation mounting as he bound from the chair. "Lead the way!"

oOo

"Sir," Harry said as they walked, the sunset casting rich colors over the grounds in a beautiful myriad, "how did you get my mum and dad's bodies out from our house?"

"Hagrid did, just before the house caved in. He was the one that got you out as well. We brought their bodies to Hogwarts and gave them a proper burial. What was left of your house was, as you know, destroyed just a little while ago," Dumbledore explained, and his eyes held no twinkle as he talked, as if thinking of sadder times. Harry was silent as he mulled over it all.

"Ah, here we are," the old man broke through Harry's thoughts. They were standing in front of a small boulder.

"Er... Sir, it's a rock," Harry stated confusedly and a bit lamely. Had Dumbledore finally lost it? But the old man chuckled, eyes dancing merrily as he moved foward to touch the rock.

"Very astute. It is a simple glamour charm. The password to reverse the spell is 'Fantomous'. Best only tell your intermediate friends, Harry." Dumbledore turned to the boulder and spoke loudly, hand resting gently on it. "FANTOMOUS!"

Suddenly, the stone sank into the ground and out of nowhere materialized large gates and beyond, a moderate-sized graveyard. Harry suppressed a shudder at the feeling of death weighing over the place and let Dumbledore lead the way, sticking close behind the man. This place gave the boy the creeps, and he could see why the Headmaster preferred to keep it undetectable. It wasn't even on the Marauder's Map!

Dumbledore stopped in front of two headstones, and Harry peeked around the man to read them, the tears willing in his eyes as he did so. They were really there.

"James Potter, loyal and loving friend, husband, and father. 1964-1984. Prongs; Marauder forever."

"Lily Potter, caring and loving friend, wife, and mother. 1965-1984. Sweet and charming till the end; a Marauder's dream come true."

Harry couldn't hold back the wave of anguish at seeing their names carved into the gravestones for eternity. It made it seem so final; so sad. For the second time that night, he broke down, crumpling to the ground to touch the two markers. He was actually sitting on the ground under which his beloved mother and father were lain... Mere feet separated them, and yet they were unattainable. Harry would never get to touch them again, but now he could at least be this close to them.

Understandibly, Dumbledore kept his distance, knowing Harry needed time to grieve alone.

After an interminable hiatus, Harry stood and left his parents' graves to explore the graveyard, all the while trying to dry his tearstained face. Dumbledore watched on politely, noticing as Harry stopped nearer to the other side of the cemetary, in front of a headstone with a griffin carved into it.

"Professor!"

Dumbledore came up beside him. "I see you have found the Four Founder's graves."

"Godric Gryffindor was buried here?" Harry breathed, tracing the name.

"Indeed he was. As was Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and even Salaazar Slytherin, although he died elsewhere and was brought to the school afterward."

"Wow," was all Harry could say. "I'm actually standing on the Founder's graves..."

Dumbledore chuckled softly at the awe in Harry's voice, but he also noticed the way the sky was turning a darker periwinkle and all the colors were fading. Dusk had set and soon it would be dark.

"While this is all well and good, Harry, I'm afraid we must be going back to the Feast now." Dumbledore winked. "I hear there is an excellent batch of treacle tart to be served and we wouldn't want to miss that, would we?"

* * *

A/N: Thanks for sticking with me all this time, everyone! Really! Means so much. I'm just letting you know, so as to get more readers hopefully, I will periodically be switching the characters from Harry/Voldemort to Harry/Dumbledore, so if you can't find the story, it will either be on one or the other. The next few chapters is where the fun REALLY begins... Part 17 is called "Wormtail". Let the musings begin! 

Here are the comments, reviewers! Starting this chapter I will reply to your reviews after the story, and when I recieve them. Then you can recieve more credit and appreciation for taking the time to review!

**Haunted**: I'm really glad chapter 15 was well worth the wait! Hopefully this chapter suits you... let me know if ya liked it! (wink and grin). So sorry for the wait :o)

**darkmarkgirl**: Oh... I'm so flattered! Thanks for the review! Sorry for the evilness of doing that cliffie last chappie. :o)

**hedwig136**: Thank you:o) And remember... you rock MY socks off! (big grin)

**Gabwr**: Thanks! I'm so flattered :o) Keep those reviews coming; looooove yours!

**Aisha-ladimoon**: Yah, sorry about Voldy last chappie! He was quite evil... But I'm happy too Dumbledore got to Harry! I hope you liked this chapter and thanks sooooo much for your reviews, especially the long ones! Means a lot :o) Sorry for the wait!

**twilightscalling**: Please don't die on me! I always await your review :o) Sorry for the wait and I'm really glad you liked chapter 15. Kudos!

**Baldur**: Welcome! I'm so glad you like my story and hope you loved this chappie as well! That's amazing, reading this whole thing in a day. I'm happy you liked it that much :o)

**BiggestDumbledoreFan**: Thank you! Glad you like it and thanks so much for reviewing my other Harry Potter fic, "Love of the Light Child". :o)

**Hermionegirl4ever**: Wow, that is the nicest and coolest compliment anyone's ever paid me! Thanks! Glad you love my story and keep on reviewing :o)

Cookies to you all! THANK YOU!

Review, and you too can have cookies (tee hee, I'm such a sweet tooth).

Luv- Angel


	17. Wormtail

Hi all! Thank you to all my reviewers; replies to them are listed after the story! I'm sorry that this chappie isn't as long as my previous ones but it is minor comparison to the ones coming! This chapter begins the excitement (evil laugh as I flex my fingers, preparing to type). Since this chapter wasn't delayed, my next one gets the possibility of being so, since finals are in a week and looming nearer and nearer (I flee, screaming my brains out). Yes, I know you all are gonna kill me for that comment once you finish this chapter. Anyhoo, enough chatting, more reading, peoples! And please review when finished!

Disclaimer: I…I…I don't own Harry Potter! And if I said otherwise, these people would clobber me! (gestures to policemen gazing menacingly at her from in the distance) So don't sue!

**It Ends Now**

Part 17: "Wormtail"

One month passed by uneventfully, aside from the snow's arrival, marking the official beginning of winter. Harry's prediction had come true; it was a frigid winter. The windows of the castle frosted over and to see through the ice fog, one had to breath warm air on it first, then rub. Teachers had allowed people to wear their cloaks in the hallways and classrooms, as the chill was unbearable if one wasn't bundled up to the maximum. Care of Magical Creatures had been postponed, as was Quidditch and Herbology (much to Neville's horror), leaving only indoor classes. Any outdoor activity or class was simply undoable. It was a near-blizzard outside and children would have gotten lost along the way, or frozen to death if venturing out.

Harry sighed, staring wistfully out the window during Charms. It wasn't that Professor Flitwick was boring- he had enough gusto alright- but that Harry had already learned their current lesson, an advanced Accio charm where the caster summoned much larger objects. Ron and even Hermione had the same glazed look in their eyes- this was old tricks for them too. Harry vaguely wondered how much more of this sheer boredom he could take before he cracked, but gratiously God had mercy on them for the bell rang not a minute later. Now to survive a double Potions... Hell on earth...

oOo

Voldemort strummed his fingers impatiently, and his followers surrounding him were almost cowering in fear. Tom Riddle was _pissed_, and everyone knew not to get in the way of the man at this moment in time. Doing so meant death by slow torture.

"Where is the rat!" he barked to Bellatrix Lestrange, who stood on his right side beside his serpent encrusted throne. The jewels and ancient, Dark Magic writings scrowled in a lost language glittered off it.

"He said he was coming, Master, but knowing him the rodent has dawdled along the way or is too fearful to show his ugly face in cowardess," Bellatrix sneered, yet she said this in a slightly sing-song voice that someone would question her sanity with. There was a mad gleam in her eyes; an excited one. She knew Wormtail would face punishment for being tardy. It was delightfully pleasureful to watch someone at the end of Voldemort's wrath. She licked her lips in anticipation and Voldemort said icily,

"He is testing his lord's patience. It is wearing thin. The rat said he had a plan and then fails to show? What is this impudence?"

The Dark Lord dug his sharp fingers into the armrests on the throne, thinking up deliciously evil ways of torture for this insolence.

But before any prominent ideas came to mind, the twin doors banged open and Wormtail rushed in, panting. He threw himself at Voldemort's feet and began kissing the hem of the man's robes.

"My lord, forgive my untimeliness; I was merely going over my plan!" Wormtail whined with an edge of begging in his voice. Inwardly, Bellatrix scoffed. _Right, Wormtail. I'll bet you were sweating your little arse off outside this room, too nervous to come face our honorable lord..._

"I have found a way to get into Hogwarts!"

This comment froze all Death Eaters. Murmurs broke out until Voldemort called out for silence, visibly intrigued. All thought of punishment was momentarily pushed out of his mind as he sat up higher.

"Explain yourself. What is this 'way'? Is it fool-proof? Will the muggle-loving old coot find out?"

So many questions from Voldemort was always a good sign when it came to new plans. Not many meant the Dark Lord thought it impossible or stupid.

"There is a passage, my lord, a passage into Hogwarts from Honeydukes..."

As Wormtail explained, a sick smile lit up Voldemort's features.

'At last you shall be mine, Harry Potter.'

oOo

An hour later, a plan was devised and Wormtail was in his Animagus rat form, scuttling unnoticed through the halls and corridors of familar old Hogwarts, making no noise as his paws lightly touched the ground. How easy it had been getting into the passageway; the fool Dumbledore didn't even know of its existence for the old man hadn't even sealed it off like the others! Undoubtedly, Harry and his friends hadn't told either, for fear they would never be able to sneak off into Hogsmeade again. That blunder would soon be their downfall.

'Like father, like son', Wormtail thought, and even as he did a pang of guilt rushed through him. James had always been nothing but good to him, and what had Wormtail done to repay that friendship? Get him killed! Betray him, his wife, and son to the enemy and seal their fate with that one act. And even despite this, Harry had saved him from being killed by his two 'best' friends in replacement for Azkaban, which was more than he deserved. And now look what he was about to do!

But it wasn't as if he had had a choice, Wormtail tried to tell himself earnestly. After all, if he hadn't joined Voldemort when he did, the Dark Lord would have found a way to recruit him anyways. Voldemort was very manipulative and decieving; he cut right to the heart and before Wormtail even acknowledged it, he was a Death Eater. It had all happened so fast, and a little voice inside Wormtail told himself that he wished he could go back and change this mistake.

The rat sighed. Was he _really _doing the right thing? 'No,' the little voice replied. But Voldemort would kill him if he didn't, and somehow, the Dark Lord made everything he did acceptable with an excuse that always seemed plausible; that somehow made the situation _right_. Even if something told Wormtail it wasn't. Like this thing he was about to do now.

Wormtail pushed aside these disconscerting and rebellious thoughts to the back of his mind, trying to focus only on the fact that if he screwed this up, his life would surely be over within a fortnight. And with that thought and ignoring the good side of his conscience, Wormtail squeezed through the Portrait hole opening unseen as an ignorant and unknowing first year girl entered.

Stage 1, accomplished.

oOo

Harry groaned, quill in hand as he rubbed his eyes. The parchment laid out in front of him was completely blank but for one line: 'The properties of bezoar and wormroot are crucial in saving a person on the brink of death because-' And that was where it stopped. Harry, for the life of him, couldn't recall what bezoar and wormroot did when put together. He was a lousy Potions student, plain and simple. He tapped his pen impatiently on the desk as he tried to remember, only stopping when Hermione threw him a dirty look. A small noise caught his attention and he looked around from whence it came, but saw nothing in the direction he had heard it. Odd.

Harry turned back around to face his paper and sighed as still no information came to him regarding the two Potions ingredients. Darn Snape and his stupid, pointless essays! Sneaking a look on either side of him, Harry saw that Ron was having the same dismal luck as him, but maybe even worse so. He hadn't written one single word and was staring blissfully into space. Harry doubted even one formulated thought drifted within his mind at the moment.

Hermione, on the other hand, had written over 2 feet within the space of only about five minutes, a miraculous feat, and she was _still _scribbling feverishly as the ideas came faster and faster. Her tongue stuck slightly out of the brainy girl's mouth, once in a while giving it a slight chew as she paused momentarily for thought.

Harry stood up and pushed back his chair, which made a scraping noise as it did so. Ron and Hermione looked up at him questioningly.

"I'm going to go get my Potions book. I left it in the dorm. I'll be right back," he explained, turning and making his way to the boys' staircase.

"Mm-kay," Ron noncommitally responded, returning to LaLa Land with a silly look on his face. Harry heard Hermione click her tongue as if she thought it sinful he didn't have it in the first place.

Harry pushed open the doorway to the dorm and entered the deserted room, closing the door behind him. It shut with a menacing, foreboding click. An odd feeling hung over Harry, as if he were being watched, but the boy dismissed it as paranoia.

Harry walked over to his trunk and lurched it open, rummaging through all his possessions in search of the Potions book. Its location evaded him at the moment. Had he left it in the dungeons? God, he hoped not! Snape would be in a foul mood probably and he sure as hell wouldn't let Harry scower the dungeons. In fact, the man would probably not let the boy in just to spite him!

"C'mon...where's...stupid book..."

"Looking for this, Harry?" a raspy, squeaking, familar voice spoke from behind Harry, setting the boy's hairs on end. Harry stiffened. He knew that dreaded voice. Pivoting slowly on the spot, Harry came face-to-face with his parent's betrayer. The rodent face was twisted into a sallow smile as he held up Harry's lost Potions book.

"Wormtail," Harry spat. "How'd you-"

But Harry was cut off by the rat lunging at him, fat fingers closing in on the boy's neck and squeezing away his respiratory usage. The impact knocked the two back and into the nightstand, and Harry's head connected with the corner. The lamp on the stand rocked on the spot from the hit, swaying till with a crash fell to the floor beside Harry. He felt some sharp pieces embed themselves into his bare hand. Harry cried out in pain, making gurgling noises as red spots erupted in front of his eyes and Wormtail choked him harder. The back of his head felt suspiciously warm and his hand hurt like hell.

"Let-me-go!" Harry gasped, fingering for his fallen wand which he had dropped in the heat of the battle between the two, ignoring the pain shooting up from his hand.

"Oh, you're not going anywhere," Wormtail ground out. With a free hand he grasped around in his pocket, pulling out a piece of paper. He shoved it into Harry's hand and forcefully scrunched his and Harry's free hands over it- the ones that were not fighting over ownership of Harry's neck. Harry began hyperventilating, and one reason was of fear of the unknown.

"One... two...three..."

Where were they going? What horror lay ahead, at the end of this portkey?

They shot foward and Harry's vision went black from lack of air, Wormtail's silver hand never moving as the portkey pulled them on, only tightening his grip on Harry's neck painfully.

* * *

A/N: Forgive me for the cliffie! I'm so evil! Please don't hunt me down! If you do, you won't get the next chapter! (And wouldn't that be a terror!). Part 18 is called "Riddle House". Ooooooohh... sounds cool, don't it? Well, you'll have to wait and find out, won't cha? (evil giggle). 

REVIEW REPLIES (passes out cookies to all her fabulous reviewers):

**Big E 3 I LOVE NASCAR: **Thank you. Unfortunately, I am not doing a Remus/Harry pairing, but maybe one day, I dunno, maybe. Unfortunately, Remus isn't prominent in this story as he has a lot of Order work to do but we will still see him at times. Harry and him will have a special relationship though, as Remus is Harry's last connection to his parents and Sirius, and both share the same pain over Sirius' loss.

**darkmarkgirl: **Thanks! I hope this chapter was for you too, although for once, not much of a wait! Tee hee, yah, I loved that description of Snape too. I actually started laughing from the mental image of it! I agree; Harry needs a parental figure like Dumbledore. We will definitely see Voldy next chapter. Oh yes, much Voldyness! Thank you for the sweet compliments as well. ;-)

**BiggestDumbledoreFan: **Wow, thank you so much for all the tips. I never knew any of that, and I promise from now on it will be 'Pomfrey' and 'McGonagall'. And thanks for all the PMs too! Things with the 'graduation' are all cleared up now, thank you so very much! Glad you're liking my story and hope you liked this chapter! Oh, and I hate Harry/Dumbledore slash too. Very gross. I mean, Dumbledore is old and wrinkly and in his hundreds, for goodness sakes :o)

**twilightscalling: **Aw, thank you! It was pretty sad (sniffsniff). Poor Harry! He has to go through so much! Hope you liked this chapter as well and next one will be even better! Have fun with your brothers... :oP

**Aisha-ladimoon: **Nope, you weren't late! I hate when I'm offline. No FF reading (sniff sniff -tear-)! Unfortunately, much Voldy ahead and he only gets worse... poor Harry! Sometimes I think we all wanna kill Voldy... grr... :oD But anyways, hope you like this chappy and review for the next! Tee hee- I also loved your description of Voldy in his lair... made me laugh...

**Haunted: **Thanks for your PM! Sorry for the wait. At least this chappy wasn't! Your PM motivated me to update faster... and I did :-) Thanks! Hope to hear from you!

Anyways, dear fans and readers, I am off to study for my exams. I'd much rather be writing though... Thanks for sticking with me and if you'll kindly click the 'Submit Review' button down there I'll be on my way...

AngelMoon Girl,

Goddess of the Pen :-D


	18. Riddle House

Hi everyone! I'm back after my horrible final exams (shivers). I'm so glad they're over! Thank god! More writing! Summer! Woohoo!

IMPORTANT NOTE: I will be gone camping from June 30th-July 4th and will be unable to post or reply to reviews or emails. However, when I come back I will see to them promptly!

Parseltongue Disclaimer: Ssssssssorry, but I do not own Hhhharry Pooootter... JK Roooowling and Warner Brotherssssssss doooooo! Tee heeeeeeeee!

**It Ends Now**

Part 18: "Riddle House"

Harry opened his eyes, only dimly aware of his surroundings. It was cold. Very cold. Harry could feel his skinny body shivering and his teeth chattering, arms wrapped around himself to try and ward off the chill. It wasn't this cold in the dorm! He tried to squint through the clammy darkness but only a thin ray of light came into the room, and Harry couldn't tell from where. He sat up, realizing only then that he was shirtless (part of the reason why it was so cold- it was winter for God's sakes!) and his neck, head, and hands all felt painful and were throbbing unpleasantly...

Then it all came back.

Wormtail! That rat! Harry cautiously stood, making no noise as he inched nearer to the thin ray of light.

Were those...bars?

"No," Harry breathed, running up to them and frantically yanking at the obstacles to his freedom. Of course, they refused to budge."NO!" He was trapped; trapped in who knows where by Wormtail. And Harry knew that wherever 'here' was, Voldemort was too, if the prickling in his scar was any inclination.

Giving a sort of forlorn whimper, Harry felt around his prison, trying to discern where he was, all the while cradling his injured hand. No windows. Bars. Cold, grimy walls. Stone floor. It was a cell; a cell that very much reminded Harry of being kept in a sealed coffin.

The boy backed up and suddenly his foot sunk into something warm and furry. He jumped in alarm with a horrified cry. The thing squeaked and scampered away, and Harry heard more telltale scuffling noises in the corner. There were rats in here!

With a terrified moan, Harry sank to the groud amd curled himself into a tight, protective shivering ball. His stomach growled, protesting it's hunger and alerting the teen to how much time had passed. _It must be around dinnertime, _Harry thought. _I wonder if anyone realizes I'm missing yet? Hermione and Ron, surely. I told them I'd be right back. Please, let the Order find me before_ they_ hurt me!_

There was a creak from somewhere above and footsteps clanking down the stairs. Harry scurried over to the far wall and pushed himself into it, trying to be inconspicious as the footsteps halted just outside his cell.

"Hawwy... Hawwy... are you in there? Come out and play, baby Hawwy!" Bellatrix Lestrange's sickening, teasing, baby-like voice crooned. "My Master wishes to see you..."

Harry choked on his own breath, blinded by unrestrained rage. He shook violently as the fury overtook fear and his senses, coursing through his body like electricity. This bitch... this Death Eater... _how dare she show her face_... stood in front of him... the _murderer _of Sirius...

With an unintelligible roar, Harry rushed in the direction of the sound of her voice, just as Bellatrix cast Lumos. As Harry raced at her, her face was not that of fear. It shone with perverted delight at seeing Harry so angry... she was _smiling_.

"Crucio!" she nearly-sang, lustful for more pain from the boy; coal black eyes glittering with malicious pleasure. Unable to dodge it, the curse hit Harry head-on and he dropped to the floor, writhing in agony. The pain went on and on, accompanied by Bellatrix's laughing. Finally, it stopped.

Bellatrix licked her lips. "That was absolutely delicious, Harry."

"Pervert," Harry ground out from his spot on the floor. The boy didn't have enough strength to pull himself up as he lay on the stone floor panting. But he didn't need to anyways.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Harry's limbs froze up and he instantly became immobile.

"Wingardium Leviosa," Bellatrix cooed sweetly, and Harry felt himself lift off the ground, completely and utterly unable to do anything about it. "Come on, Potter. To the Dark Lord's lair we go!"

The insane witch floated the boy up, not taking care to avoid the bumps that Harry banged intoalong the way. In fact, it seemed she was purposely making him jar into walls or sharp corners of things.

They stopped in a pitch-black room and Bellatrix released the spells. With a thud, Harry fell to the ground. He scurried up, scar dispelling blinding pain. It was as though someone had brought a sudden axe down on Harry's head. Voldemort was in this house. The boy tried to make a run for it, but suddenly two strong, muscular arms lifted Harry off the ground. Apparently, Bellatrix and Harry weren't alone in the abyss-like room. Harry struggled feriously; biting, kicking, and scratching like a trapped wild animal giving in to its primal instincts when danger beckoned.

"Stop that now or I'll REALLY give you a reason to panic," a male voice hissed venomously into Harry's ear, tightening the already painful grip he had on Harry's upper arms. The boy stopped his futile fight and curled in on himself as the fire building in his scar suddenly erupted, magnifying tenfold.

"Hello, Harry."

The torches flared up, dancing light that gleamed eerily off the walls and showcasing the hidden peoplethe roomcontained.

Harry was being held captive by the Death Eater MacNair, and they were surrounded in a circle by what looked like forty or so Death Eaters. And in the middle of it all sat Lord Voldemort, perched on his throne like the King of Darkness that he was.

"Welcome to my humble abode, Harry Potter," he greeted, adding false cordial into his words. MacNair threw Harry sprawling to the floor. Almost immediately, the boy jumped up, getting into a cautious, ready stance. However, he felt quite vulnerable without his wand. The most he could do was dodge spells and attacks, but even then, luck would not hold forever.

Almost lazily, Voldemort flicked his wand. "Crucio." Sidestepping the curse, Harry gave Voldemort a dark look. He would not succumb that easily. The Dark Lord smirked.

"Been practicing for your big day, Potter?"

"You wish," Harry snarled, dodging another Crucio sent his way.

"Hmm, perhaps my way is ineffective? If you tell me the prophecy, Potter, I may refrain from using some of my more painful, unpleasant Dark Curses on you. Or better yet, if you do, I will kill you instantly, rather than the hard way! What do you say?"

"I say you're a desperate wanna-be with a bad nose job," Harry returned sarcastically, jumping to the side of a Bone-Breaking Spell. "You know my answer from before, _Tom_. I refuse to give up."

Voldemort's face twisted in fury.

"_No one calls me by my filthy muggle father's name_," he hissed, saying it so quietly it almost sounded like Parseltongue. "CRUCIENDIO!"

Harry was caught off guard by the sudden Dark Curse- a Cruciatus pain spell and Incendio burning spell combined into one; very Dark Magic and only accomplished by those whose souls were so shadowed by darkness that there was no return from it. Few were able to manage the spell, but Voldemort did so with ease.

The pain was so excruciating that the feeling almost cannot be put into words. Harry's very insides burned with a white-hot fire, escalating until the boy thought they must have ruptured with the pain. He rolled and screamed in total torment as blood steadily streamed from his eyes, nose, and mouth.

_I want to die; please just kill me now, Voldemort!_

The Dark Lord released the spell and cackled as Harry tried to gasp for breath, gurgling; drowning in his own blood. His chest heaved and his heart pace quickened with pure panic. A cough brought up copper-tasting blood that alleviated some of the blockage. With slow, purposeful steps, Voldemort went to stand over Harry while fingering his wand, as if he had triumped at last. Then he spoke in a deadly whisper.

"Ah, now this is how I like it. Me, standing over a hopeless, forlorn enemy, and watching them cry out in torture..."

"You're a sick bastard," Harry ground out at the derisive mocking, struggling to stand. His luck had just run out.

"And you're a weak, pathetic little boy who will soon be begging for my mercy, just like that mudblood mother of yours," the Dark Lord smoothly replied in a very mordant manner, pushing Harry back to the ground."The world is not made up of good and evil, only power, and those who seek it and those who are too weak to. Now, what is the prophecy now that you have experienced true agony?"

"I-I d-don't know!" Harry choked desperately. He recieved a back-handed slap and Harry cradled his tender, red cheek.

"LIAR! YOU DECIEVE! I SEE IT IN YOUR INFURIATING EYES! WHAT IS THE DAMN PROPHECY!"

Harry pursed his lips together in defiance. Voldemort's face contorted and he sneered.

"On your own damn life be it," he spoke in a dead-quiet whisper that made all the Death Eaters in the throne room shiver. His foot came out to kick the still-spasming Harry hard in the chest, and the boy was sure he felt at least one rib break. The seeker was then thrown forcefully into two masked Death Eaters, who grabbed his arms in vice-like grips. Were it not for this, Harry probably would have collapsed back onto the floor from the sudden shooting pain in his chest. Yes, he was _very _sure at least one rib had snapped. Instead, he opted to hang almost limp in the devotees' grasp.

"Bring him back to his cell. Have all the fun you want with him; just don't kill the boy. I want him alive but broken. The worse he feels, the more inclined he'll feel to share the iformation he is disclosing. Oh, and bring in the dementor when you're done." The Dark Lord turned to Harry and gave a malicious grin, showing yellow teeth. "Bye, bye, Harry. Enjoy yourself."

And with those last satirical words, Harry was dragged back to his cell, drowning in his own fear and pain.

oOo

Harry was flung back onto the grimy stone floor of his prison. He scurried over the to far wall and again and tried to cower from sight, but the act was futile. Casting Lumos, the Death Eaters spotted him immediately and advanced on Harry threateningly. The boy let out a frightened sound like a wounded animal knowing it was going to die. One Death Eater snapped his fingers and suddenly shackles bound Harry to the wall. The other transfigured his wand into a red-hot poker, coals burning at the end as if it had just come out of a fireplace. The Boy-Who-Lived panicked, pulling at the binding metal but unable to free himself.

"You know, Potter," the first Death Eater purred, stroking Harry's cheek. The boy bit back bile rising in his throat from the contact and sardonic words. "This would be a lot easier on you if you were to just tell us the prophecy. Why is it so important to keep it secret anyway? Is your life really less valued than a few words? Just tell us." In response, Harry gritted together his teeth and tensed his muscles, preparing himself for the torture that lay ahead. Manipulative words would not fool him. He would never tell, and the Death Eaters knew it too.

The poker found the bare skin and the screaming began.

* * *

Harry lay sprawled on the floor, barely recognizable due to so many injuries marring his battered body. Whip marks and jagged cuts defaced his body, and some of his flesh had been completely burned away. Internally, the boy had many broken ribs and bones, not to mention he was coughing up blood again. But even through getting all of the wounds, Harry had remained firm and not revealled the prophecy.

Now, Harry was suffering mentally with the prescence of the dementor outside his cell, guarding the boy. He lay breathing heavily on the floor, breathing coming in searing gasps and bordering on unconcious. He was fading in and out, going from awareness to unawareness. Occasionally a hacking fit of blood overcame the teen, rousing him from the blackness within. But Harry was past caring what was happening to him or what would happen next. Rotting in his own body, Harry's will to live was deteriorating, just as he was. He had lost all hope of rescue. Hearing everyone he had ever seen or heard die was not helping matters either. Harry was trapped in Hell.

There was a creak as of a door opening above, and Harry closed his eyes tightly shut as if to block out reality. Another Death Eater was on their way down to beat Harry to a pulp; he could hear the slow footsteps falling down the stairs. The boy knew the torture was not _just _to leak the prophecy from him. Oh no, those Death Eaters did it for their own pleasure too. The two days Harry had been there now had shown that.

Voldemort himself had come down numerous times, various weapons of pain clutched tightly in his skeletal thin white fingers, a sick, perverted grin on his lips. Crucio and other pain curses had been used on the boy more times than he could count.

Bellatrix Lestrange was another who came a lot, but her favorite tactic besides Cruciatus was taunting- like how his 'Mummy' wasn't there to save him now, or Sirius like in the Department of Mysteries. Sirius was used a lot in her verbal abuse, because it was obvious to the insane witch that the mutt's death was a very sore spot.

It was a miracle Harry was still sane.

"Expecto Patronum!" a silky, nasal, very-familar voice hissed. Harry's eyes flew back open in disbelief as he saw the Death Eater's wand emit a pearly white smoke that formed into a large raven. The bird squawked, pushing the dementor away as the tall cloaked figure swept in, removing his mask and lowering the hood as he did so.

It was Professor Snape.

"It's me, Potter."

Harry could have kissed him.

Well, that was going a bit too far.

"P'fessor Snape?" Harry mumbled in a slur, trying to sit up. But his weak, starving body just would not obey. He hadn't been given any type of liquid or solid the whole time. "Why di'nt you come soon'r?" He hadn't meant to say it, but the question he'd been thinking over and over just slipped out.

A brief flash of pained regret went through Professor Snape's obsidian orbs; something Harry had never seen before. The man's hate just seemed to melt into something very un-Snapelike when he saw Harry in this state. Compassion. Sorrow. Pity. Regret. Things the uptight, emotionless man had never felt before.

"I couldn't. No one knew where you were and I was not called immediately when the other Death Eaters were. I only just arrived at the Dark Lord's beckon. I believe someone may have tipped me off about the spying duty and I am suspected of traitory," the greasy Potions Master explained in a low voice. He fumbled around in his robes, pulling out a dark bottle full of some light blue liquid.

"Drink this all. It's a numbing potion, laced with pain-killing solution and rejeuvination brew. This will work for one hour and one hour only. Escape. Find the exit as stealthily as possible. I am unaware of its location, but it's on the floor above, as that is the first floor. We're in the basement. You must hurry." Snape pushed the bottle into Harry's hands and the boy downed it with trembling fingers in one gulp. Instantly, his vision cleared and the boy's injuries hurt less. It was numbing them.

"What now?" Harry asked in a less-strained voice.

"I need you to scream for me."

"W-what? Why?"

"Idiot!" Snape hissed in a growl, eyes flashing and warning dripping from his voice. The old Snape returns. "I am supposed to be torturing you at the moment! Now, if you do not start screaming I will GIVE you a reason to, boy!"

Without ado, Harry obliged immediately, yelling his throat raw.

"Alright, stop."

Harry took in deep breaths, letting the breath whoosh out in a calming way. He knew it was going to be hard getting out. He pushed himself into a standing position. The Boy-Who-Lived could feel with his bare feet the puddle of blood he'd been laying in, and the seeker dared not look down at his red stained bare chest full of horrible obscenities... he might just throw up if he did so. The teen knew he must look like a complete mess.

"Come on, Potter," Snape whispered urgently, grasping Harry's wrist and forcefully pulling the teen out of the cell quickly and quietly.

He let go at the edge of the stairs.

"I'm going back up. Be quiet until someone sees you, which they undoubtedly will, then make a run for it," Snape instructed. "I'm not giving too much hope that you will indeed find the exit, but you must try and get out. They are going to kill you soon; Voldemort has grown tired of your unresponsiveness to the torture."

And then he left Harry, up the stairs and disappearing from sight, black robes billowing in a classically Snape way. Harry waited a moment so it would not look suspicious. Then he too started up the stairs. He exitted through a large door and came out into a deserted dark hallway, and with feet slapping hard against the cold, gleaming black floor, Harry reached the end of the hall where another door stood, tall and firm. Other doors were along the sides as well, but something in Harry's intuition told him the door was somewhere beyond that one... or at least, that it was closest going through that door. He wrenched it open and came into another long hallway.

But this one wasn't deserted.

One lone Death Eater was striding purposefully towards the door Harry had just opened. When he saw the battered teen, he stopped dead. "HE'S ESCAPED! HE'S GOT OUT! POTTER ESCAPED!"

The sound of running feet thundered to the door that lay behind the masked minion of Voldemort. With an unintelligable roar, the Death Eater lunged at Harry, who in turned acted fast and threw closed the door separating the two. With a dive, the Boy-Who-Lived flung himself through the next closest door on the left wall and pulled it shut just as he heard the door he had previously been at explode. The sound of wood chunks hitting the wall coursed through the room, but Harry didn't stop for contemplation. The Death Eater must have blasted it open to save time and any second, Death Eaters could come plowing into the room, armed with their wands while Harry had nothing.

Running as fast as he could through the dark room that appeared to be a very large living room, as well as dodging various pieces of old, rickety furniture, Harry threw himself at another door and entered into the next room that also appeared the be a slightly smaller sitting room. Not stopping even when he banged his kneecap on the edge of a coffee table, Harry kept going. His life depended on it.

The mansion was like a maze, with no end. It reminded Harry too much of the Third Task, except this time he was the one running rather than searching.

A door on the right was the next route Harry took, and he came out into yet _another _hallway. But this one was lit by torches that flickered with warmth, making it hard to imagine Death Eaters and Voldemort ramaged through this house. This hall seemed the only inviting one. At the end was a very intricately carved door, decorated richly in solid oak. Harry's intuition suddenly turned on and told him this was it. The exit. Freedom.

A side door imploded from behind the boy, the pieces flying everywhere. Harry swerved at the noise, then shielded his face, the shards embedding themselves into his arms and chest. Oddly, he didn't feel them. The numbing potion was still in effect. But time was running out.

A horde of Death Eaters stumbled through and Harry's eyes widened. He was found.

"WE'VE GOT HIM IN THE ENTRANCE HALL!"

Curses flew at him like crazy and Harry expertly dodged the spells, launching himself into a breckneck sprint for the beautiful door. He threw it open and lunged out, ducking down to let more curses fly harmlessly over his head.

Cold air hit Harry like a thousand knives. The snow whirled around in the evening air, and it littered the ground in piles. Harry tore off down the hill that the house he'd been kept captive in stood on, not daring to look back as the cries of "STOP HIM!" echoed throughout the air.

Harry shivered, the snowflakes flying into his eyes and clinging to his long lashes. He was past freezing. No, he was turning blue with cold, and the feeling was numbing, just like the potion that was slowly wearing off. All the adrenaline from before was disappearing, leaving a weariness in his very bones. Soon the pain would come back. There wasn't much time to get to safety, and his condition was slowing the boy down. He couldn't even feelhis feet now, even though they were scratching from the rough terrain. Wearing nothing but pants in this blizzard was NOT helping either.

He plowed through thickets and ignored the spindely branches and thorns pulling and ripping at him as they caught onto him in his mad dash down the incline.

Harry stumbled on a stray root, falling foward. He rolled uncontrolled the rest of the way, coming to a stop on his butt at the bottom on the hill. He had landed in a graveyard, knarled and knotted trees stooping low over the markers as if old and weighed down. The place had a creepy, haunted, nostalgic feel to it, and fresh death smelled in the air.

Wasting no time to look around, Harry shot up and raced through it, dodging tons of gravestones. But one in prticular caught his eye and made the boy stop dead in his tracks. A very familar one that he still saw in nightmares. Nightmares of that horrible night almost two years ago. The name read:

_Tom Riddle_

"No..." Harry whimpered, backing away from it with fear, trying to block out the cold that had settled inside him by wrapping his arms around his skinny body. He'd been tied to that headstone. Had his blood forcibly taken there. Been cursed and slapped. He'd seen the enemy he was running from now rise resurrected from a cauldron at that gravestone.

He was back in Little Hangleton Graveyard.

He was back where Cedric Diggory had been murdered right before his eyes.

Back to the place where many of his nightmares still centered.

Back where all his current troubles began.

How ironic.

But Harry found nothing funny about the situation he was in right now. Nothing at all. The terrified boy kept backing away from that gravemarker, but his eyes never left it. It was as if they were locked onto it. He couldn't see anything else. He couldn't feel at all.

That is, until he backed into a body. Arms encircled themselves around Harry's chest and pulled the boy close.

Arms that were white and skeletal thin.

Harry stiffened and let out a horrified scream as his scar burned with so much ferocity he couldn't see through his streaming eyes.

"Harry, Harry, Harry," a soft, silky, playful voice from above whispered as the fingers caressed Harry's throbbing chest, where inside his heart beat wildly with unrestrained fear. "Still haven't learned yet? You always run, but you can _never _hide from Lord Voldemort."

* * *

A/N: Yes, another cliffie. I must've sold my soul to the devil, I'm so evil, eh? LOL! I will try and update ASAP; now that summer has finally come, I have more writing time! Yay! Chapter 19 is "Traitor Revealed". Let the speculation begin! 

Thank you for all the reviews! I was in Heaven; I've never gotten so many reviewers for a chapter ever! Awards and cookies galore to all my wonderful, wonderful reviewers! THANK YOU!

REPLIES TO REVIEWS:

**Haunted: **Thank you! Glad you love this story and hopefully you liked this chapter too! I also love getting PMs from you too ;-)

**NazgulGirl**: Wow, thank you for all those reviews! I love it when people review for many chapters! I'm very glad you like this story so much and I shall have to pull a Dobby and punish myself greatly for doing such an evil cliffy LOL...

**LoSt61389: **Here it is! Glad you like my story and how was this chapter? Hope to hear from you more!

**Ellen: **Thanks for the review! No, there won't be any slash. I HATE slash too! Same gender pairings is really gross, unless I'm in a really weird mood and feel like reading it. It'll be Harry/Ginny and Ron/Hermione hintings, but this isn't really a romance story so they won't be getting together. People will have to use their imagination for what will happen between the couples later on in their lives. For now, they're just fighting Voldy and going through their school year with little bits of fluff and embarassment when love comes up. :-)

**darkmarkgirl: **Well thank you! It was a bit short, but hopefully this chapter made up for it! Yes, finally Voldy has succeeded in his plans. :-) MUHAHAHA! Yah, I kinda have Wormtail split in half as to where his loyalties lie, cause in the 3rd book we see Wormtail saying he felt like he had no choice because Voldemort was so manipulative, and I just sorta built on that. Glad you liked the chapter and hope you review for this one too! (huggles!)

**BiggestDumbledoreFan: **Well thank you! Yes, a little dark point of view with Wormtail there- a change in P.O.V. for a bit, eh? I hate 'um too; I like stories where Snape is AU and good (although you never know, JKR could pull a fastball on us and end up having Snape good or something). Hope you liked this chapter as much as last!

**Potter-Blood: **Yes, ANOTHER cliffie. :-P Thank you very much, and hope you love this chappy too (Despite the cliffie! I am as evil as evil can get).

**twilightscalling: **Thank you soooo much for your review and for constantly reviewing! LOL I love to rant too! That review was so funny! Made me laugh! It's OK about that stray email, too! Look what it's led too:-) It's great having you as an "E-mail buddy" LOL! Love hearing from ya and thanks for those Harry Potter movie clips! They were awesome! Keep writing; YOU ROCK:-D And your story does too! And (sniff sniff) hope you don't have a heart attack waiting for the next chappy! LOL.

**Iniysa: **Thank you! Hope this chapter whetted your appetite for more :-D Glad you liked last chappy!

**Nibble-Ett: **Sorry 'bout that cliffy! I'm so evil; I've gone and done another! But hey, keeps people interested and wanting more! Thank you so much for the review and hope to hear from ya more!

**hyper-swain: **Ah, those are some of my mistakes from earlier chapters, back before I checked things over with a fine-tooth comb. Sorry about that! I had forgotten Harry and the others were at Grimmauld in chapter 8 and mistakenly thought they were at the Burrow (sheepish look). Sorry! Harry became Quidditch Captain by McGonagall, who sent him a letter with the badge in it. Except, Mrs.Weasley opened it for him cause he was in bed and just brought up the badge. So there had been a letter explaining it, but I decided she'd surprise him with the badge. :-) Thanks for the review; means so much to me!

**Gabwr**: That's OK! I'm glad you liked it! Hope you settle in nicely! I like theWormtail part too; gives a reprieve from always Harry's point of view. We're gonna have a Snape POV very soon, so it'll be another shift. Keep reviewing and thanks again :-)

**Werewolf777**: Yes, quite evil. MUHAHAHAHAcoughcoughhack -ahem-. Sorry it took a bit long to update but here's the chapter (finally!) and hope you like it! Thank you for the comments about the story- I always try and be descriptive, so you can imagine in your head what Harry is seeing and feeling. Yah, I hate it when authors rush into things; I -try- and take it slow, although once in a while I feel myself doing the same thing ;-) I also love having things be to canon and I'm glad you do too! Thanks!

**Kakashi-sensai-lover**: Well thank you! Your review rocked too cause that was such a sweet compliment :-) Hope you review more and hope you like this chappy!

Well, that's all folks! Until next chapter!

XOXO AngelMoon Girl XOXO


	19. Traitor Revealed: Part 1

Hey everyone! I'm so sorry for the wait! I've been quite busy, especially with back to school stuff and trying to read my summer books I probably should have read a while ago (sheepish look). It's been a while, I know, and I shall have to pull a Dobby and punish myself greatly for the delay! Go on, throw tomatoes! I deserve it. LOL :-) I will try and not have so long of a wait for next chapter, but if I do, send me a few flaming emails telling me to hurry it up :-D OK, jk, but thank you to all who PMed for this chappy! Really motivated me!

I have decided to cut "Traitor Revealed" in half, so now it is two parts long and this is Part 1 of the original chappy. I just thought that if I did this I could get it up sooner and luckily Part 2 is almost done so the wait will not be so interminable. This centers mostly around Severus and is a third-person POV from him (except in the beginning with Ron and Hermione).

As usual, replies to reviews after the chapter. Enjoy y'all, and review, review, review or I shall sic my guest Voldy on you!

Voldemort Disclaimer: JK Rowling, if you do not give me the rights to Harry Potter I shall curse you into oblivion! AVADA KEDAVRA! Mwhahahahaha! I am the immortal and great Lord Voldemort! Bow down before me, fanfiction readers, or face my wrath of pain! Bwhahahaha!

**It Ends Now**

Part 19: "Traitor Revealed: Part 1"

Hermione Granger tapped her quill on the table, oblivious to her current surroundings as she thought upon her notes from a couple days ago on the properties of bezoar. She knew it could put a stopper in the spread of poison in one infected if digested straight after consumption. But she was having trouble trying to remember the exact shape and dimensions of it, and in her mind, every aspect of the bezoar had to be covered in her report.

There was a sudden crash from above and she and Ron Weasley directed their attention to the boy's dormitory above. Ron shook his head humorously. "Clumsy Ol' Harry."

But Hermione didn't look satisfied. Her brow was knotted in thought, speculation, and suspicion. "Ron, since when has Harry been clumsy? He's quite agile."

Ron gave the girl an exasperated look at his idea of over-analyzing. "What's your point? He probably bumped something. People do bump things once in a while, Hermione."

"Ron, I'm not trying to be funny! I just have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. You know that feeling, right? Something seems off. I thought I heard scraping too. Unless Harry's bowling with breakable china, something's wrong," Hermione opined.

"Bowling? What's that?"

"Muggle sport."

"Oh." Ron pulled back his chair and stood. "I guess if you're that worried, I'll go check on him. Seriously, if Harry's just gone and accidentally knocked something over, I swear I'm never gonna let you live this down." The boy started to the stairs, then looked back in confusion.

"What are you doing?" he asked the bushy haired Hermione who was following him. "Girls technically aren't allowed in the boy's dormitories, despite the lack of a slide guarding us."

"Well, _technically_, I've been in there many times already," she sniffed irritably. "Besides, I'm just as interested in what the noise was as you are, _Ronald_." Ron made a little growling noise in the back of his throat at the use of his full name.

"Fine," the freckled teen gave in in the same tone, just as they reached the door, having not noticed they had already ascended the stairs.

He knocked. "Harry? You in there?"

No response.

"Harry?" He pushed open the door. The scene that met their eyes was not one the two had been expecting.

The expensive-looking lamp that normally sat between Harry and Ron's bed was on the floor in shards. The nightstand it sat upon was moved farther back than usual, and little scrape marks showed it had been shoved back quite forcefully. But other than that, nothing else looked amiss. Aside from one other very important thing- where was _Harry_?

As Ron moved over to look in Harry's open trunk for clues, Hermione went straight to the scene of the crime, where the broken pieces of fine china lay scattered across the floor, giving off a slight shine. What she found while bending over the glittering objects was not comforting in the least.

"Ron," she called in a tiny, strained voice. "Look." Ron hurried over to the pale girl. She held up a shard. Something red stained it.

"It's blood. There are more like this one."

They looked at eachother for a second, silent words passing between them that neither had to speak. The look each gave was clear enough to the other. Then they bolted headlog for the door. A visit to Dumbledore was in order. Harry was missing. His blood was on broken pieces of glass. What was going on?

oOo

The two friends reached the gargoyle, only then realizing that neither knew the password.

"Fizzing Whizbee? Licorice Lolly? Sherbert Lemon? Acid Pop?" Hermione guessed rushedly, speaking a mile a minute as sweet after sweet popped into her head. One had to be the key to open the door.

"Dammit!" Ron cursed, slamming his fist into the immovable mythical stone creature. "Harry could be in danger and we're just standing here trying to figure out a dumb candy password! Every second is precious! Can't you please, please just step aside for us? It's URGENT!"

But the gargoyle refused his heeds. Meanwhile, Hermione was chanting sweets almost incessantly without a breath.

"Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beens? Droobles Best Blowing Gum? Ice Mice? Sugar Quill?" she went on.

The gargoyle jumped up and to the side, showcasing the hidden spiral staircase it guarded.

"Nice, Hermione!" Ron cheered, clapping her on the back. They immediately started up the stairs, not pausing to knock as Ron threw open the door to Dumbledore's office.

Tons of gasps sounded around the room. Apparently, Dumbledore was entertaining many people. But a closer look around the room, and the two slightly blushing teens realized Dumbledore was hosting an Order meeting. The old man looked up as the door slammed off against the wall from the force of impact.

"Mr. Weasley! Ms. Granger! To what do I owe this unexpected surprise visit?"

"Ronald Weasley!" Mrs. Weasley cut in through. "Have I raised an ape? Do you knock before throwing open a door? This is an Order meeting!"

Ron ignored his mother, but a slightly red tinge colored his ears in embarassment from having just been chastised in front of the whole darn Order, not to mention Professor Dumbledore and, oh dear god, even Professor Snape. But he mustered up his courage and spoke up. "Harry's missing!"

That set the room to dead quiet.

"What do you mean?" Snape hissed in a coldly serious voice.

"He's gone. Harry was doing homework with us and he said he left his Potions book upstairs and was going to go get it, but he never came back down. Ron and I went up to investigate and there was a lamp broken and no Harry. His blood was on some of the shards, though," Hermione explained with a teary voice. You could tell she was trying to pull herself together in front of all these people.

"Goodness gracious!" McGonagall exclaimed, hand over mouth. "But Albus, how could this have happened? How was Harry stolen right out of his dormitory, just like that? What about the protection wards?"

"I do not know, Minerva," Dumbledore responded, a cold fire burning in his eyes, "But we are going to find out. I thought I had warded off all entry to Hogwarts from the outside."

"Obviously not," Mrs. Weasley snarled sarcastically, eyes very much the same but directed at Dumbledore. That look was completely out of place on the usually warm, kind-hearted mother of seven. She had her moments of anger, but not like this. This was fury. Fury over the helplessness that no one knew, and no one could do anything about it. That feeling just all spilled over when she looked at the man who should have found some way to prevent this. But deep down, she knew Dumbledore was only human. He was not the all-knowing, all-powerful wizard they thought and wanted him to be. But that voice was squished as her rage boiled. "Harry was kidnapped right out of Gryffindor Tower and that's all you can say?"

"I am sending out a search party immediately, Molly, but there's not a lot we can do. If Voldemort really has captured Harry, then our only chance of getting to him is awaiting Voldemort's call through Professor Snape's Dark Mark. I'm afraid that until we discover Voldemort's location, which has still eluded us even after all these years and which he even highly discloses from his best Death Eaters, there is no way we will be able to rescue Harry." The old man sank into his chair, hands over face. In a barely audible, yet weary voice, he said:

"I am sorry, Harry. I have failed you again."

oOo

"It's been two days, Albus," Severus Snape stated in a tight, carefully guarded voice devoid of emotion.

"Still nothing?" the old white-haired mage inquired in a weary tone that perfectly showed his age. All the power and wisdom he usually wielded in his voice was absent. Snape shook his head in the negative. Then he chose his words carefully.

"I believe...my position as spy is... under suspicion."

"You think someone may have tipped Voldemort off about your role for the Order?"

"Yes. It's very discomforting that two days have passed and I have not yet recieved any sign or call from the Dark Lord. It may have been Lucius Malfoy- he is the one with the most inside information and spies of his own due to money negotiations," Snape guessed smartly.

"I do believe your suspicions are correct, Severus," Albus sighed. He knew their spying within Voldemort's ranks was coming to a close. "Until you recieve a call, we may never know Harry's location. I have sent out many searchers, but Voldemort will have made his headquarters unplottable and protected by many Dark Enchantments, so we have come up with nothing. Not even one lead. By now, I fear for Harry's life."

Dumbledore's fire suddenly roared, the flames licking higher and higher up until the head of Kingsley Shacklebolt appeared.

"Any clues?" Dumbledore immediately asked, a small sliver of hope still present in his voice even though his brain knew the answer already. The old wizard was very talented at reading face expressions and eyes, and while it came in handy for spotting lies, it was also a burden when it came to crushing hope.

"I'm sorry, Albus. We've looked all over Britian. It's like he's disappeared off the face of the earth. For all we know, Voldemort could have stolen Harry away to some deserted fortress in the middle of nowhere. We have hardly any hope of survival left for the boy," the auror said in a somber and sullen tone. Even as he said this, Dumbledore seemed to deflate even more, dejectedly sinking lower into his seat.

"I still have faith in Harry. He's strong. One way or the other, broken or whole, he will pull through," the Headmaster whispered, but even he had that small voice of doubt present in his mind.

oOo

That evening, Severus Snape entered his office in a frustrated stride. As much as he hated that idiotic boy, offspring of his enemy James Potter, he did not want him dead. But the dark, oily-skinned Potions Master also knew the terror of Voldemort, and he wasn't so sure such a mere child could stand strong against the Dark Lord for long. Sure, Potter had encountered his master and duelled him, la de da, hero once again, but he had never actually been held captive for two days by the Darkest Wizard of the Age. Even top aurors had met their demise by the king of darkness. There were things that Voldemort did that were darker than anything the Golden Child of the Light Side had ever known or dreamed of. When one lingered in the evil darkness as long as Voldemort had, and immersed themselves into the Dark Art of immortality, sin, and death as much as the vile snake creature had, their soul became as tainted as a grimy, broken, dirt stained window, yellowed with age and never to shine again such was its permanent damage. Their conscience would be ripped apart, leaving only a hole laden of anger and lust for violence. No one could return from such a state. It was as if they were Kissed by dementors. A soul like that is a lost cause. The only pleasure such a person, no, _being _recieved was from seeing others in torment. And Voldemort had strayed far into that realm of unreturn. It all came down to this: the boy was strong, and his soul pure, but was he strong and pure enough to overcome the consuming power of Lord Voldemort, without the cost of his own life?

Severus sneered as he grabbed a few bottles containing vile-looking liquid and roughly dumped their contents into a large black cauldron. He spun it counter-clockwise haphazardly, something very rare coming from the usually hyper-careful Potions professor. It meant his mind was overflowing with thoughts, so much so that the man was unable to concentrate or at least store them away using Occlumency methods, even though potion brewing usually made him considerably calmer and alert. But not today.

"Stupid, foolish boy... Should have been more cauotious, after all he's been taught... compulsive and assinine, that boy is..." Severus ranted wildly in a mutter. Without looking away from his potion, the preoccupied greasy-haired man swiped some random bottle off the shelf above him and dumped the red powder it held into the brew. Only then did Severus realize it was the wrong ingredient. The potion did as well, and it reacted just as foully as its uptight brewer did.

"Oh shit!"

BANG!

In a mass of red, firey, and bubbling liquid, the cauldron exploded, sending the potion-gone-wrong everywhere. The grimy stone walls recieved most of the foul smelling brew. Severus conjured a small barrier just as the cauldron ruptured, using his quick instincts in duelling in this situation so that the boiling potion rebounded.

"Dammit," Severus hissed in a curse, taking in his ruined office in one eye sweep. The red liquid was dripping from nearly everything, acting like an acid as it ate holes into the ceiling, walls, desk, other cauldrons, and more. Thank god the other ingredients had unbreakable containers, or disaster would have been imminent.

Summoning a strong Scourgify and Reparo spell, the highly irate man fixed his office into a semblance of normal and then sank heavily into his armchair by the fire. He gazed into the glowing embers and tried to push away the feeling of guilt that loomed over him that he could do no more in the search for Potter. He knew it wasn't his fault, but the whole damn Order was depending on him and all he could do was sit there and stare into the dead fire's remains of glowing coal, awaiting a call he may never feel again considering the suspicions placed upon him that Snape should have forseen long before.

Severus didn't know how long he remained in that emotionless stupor, but what aroused him from it was definitely a good sign; much better than anything the Order had diggen up so far.

His Mark was burning.

Searing like hell, more like.

Severus' insides did a nervous loop-de-loop as he conjured on the familar black robes and mask almost instantaneously. He _needed _to get to Potter. That was the ultimate objective. Even if it cost him his life. The whole world's future depended on his actions tonight. Now the Potions Master felt a small piece of what Harry felt.

'But who cares how Potter feels, anyway?' the emotionless, yet sometimes cruel side of Snape's brain, and the dominant one, chastised to this thought.

And then, clearing his mind into a blank slate and surrendering himself to whatever the fates had in store for him, Severus Snape touched his Mark and let the Dark Magic transport him to wherever Lord Voldemort resided.

oOo

The clever teleportation device made by the Dark Lord himself pulled Severus on roughly like a portkey. In a matter of seconds, Snape found himself landing in a dark room. Immediately, the Death Eater spy pulled himself together and rose, moving into a more prostrate position. He could sense his master was straight in front of him. Years of being in his service had helped the troubled Potions brewer detect his presence. It was the same with Albus. Severus had always had that ability in regards to people with powerful magical auras. As much as he loathed to admit it, a lot of the time he could sense Potter's too, most definitely as the boy progressed in years and power. It was much harder in the boy's early years, but always ever-vaguely present.

Lo and behold, the lights of the torches flared up and the figure of Lord Voldemort appeared upon his throne in front of Snape, twisted face shrouded in shadows.

"Severusssss..." he hissed in a foreboding greeting.

"Master," Severus returned, adding a feel of adoration into his voice. He knew interrogation was coming and thus decided to choose his words carefully when time came.

"Lucius has informed me of some very interesting, and somewhat... _disturbing_ news..." Voldemort broached, eyes narrowed as a cold, intense fire brimmed within his coal red orbs. His lipless mouth was curled into an unpleasant sneer, showing his obvious displeasure. Many men shook under this death gaze, but Severus was always one of composure.

"Has he? And what is that news, if I may be so bold as to ask, my lordship? Unless, of course, it is classified," Severus responded calmly, all innocent ignorance. Inside, his stomach clenched painfully. Was this it? What horrifying punishment lay ahead? It was not easy to pull a fast one over the Dark Lord when he had his mind set on something. Like killing the boy or getting the prophecy out of him. Any Death Eater who even broached the subject of perhaps setting him free and getting some other Order member to spill the prophecy was pretty much sentencing their own demise. It was easier just to tie the rope round your own neck at that point.

"He tells me you and Dumbledore have been working very closely... a little _too _closely, my supposed little spy," Voldemort almost crooned, a lilt to his voice. It was almost as though the man was teasing him, like waving chicken feed before a chicken just before you were to chop it's head off. The fire in his eyes stoked higher. "Lucius has been very suspicious of you, Severus, ever since you failed to show at the Ministry last summer in our battle in the Department of Mysteries. He has had young Draco trailing and watching you lately for any signs of traitory, and as I have said, there have been fruits to his labors..."

Severus held back his growl of anger and kept his face neutrally placid. That scum of a Death Eater! Severus had noticed Draco's heightened attention to him this year in class, but the man had just waved it off as nothing. After all, Draco's grades had plummeted, but now were rising once again, and Snape had only thought it more awareness as to what was happening in class- something the boy had always lacked unless goaded or threatened into it by his father.

"I assure you, my lord. It was only to get more information out of the muggle-loving old coot; nothing else. I must act closer to avoid suspicion. He had seen my straying loyalties, for I admit, after our triumphant capture of the boy I had not been as cautious as usual, such was my glee. Immediately, I stepped up my Order activity, so you see, Draco's suspicions are but a mere misunderstanding. At last, Potter will die and my grudge avenged!" Snape said intensely, adding much empathy into his voice. The result made his speech sound genuine. "My allegiance is already sworn only to you, and my only aim to serve you, master."

Voldemort let a small, appreciative smile creep up onto his face, but it didn't reach anywhere else on his face. They never did. Warmth didn't exist. Smiles were just an act, only a show to let known his pleasure or displeasure. "I knew you were truely on our side. You were always one of my best warriors. I see your logic. Lucius shall be punished severely for his blunderous actions and false suspicions that have cooked up this misconception. I'll make sure to have that son of his pay too."

"Yes, master," Severus murmured, trying not to let the joy he felt reach his voice.

"Oh, and Severus? Crucio."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Well, there it is, Part 1. Part 2 is still in the same POV (Severus, third person), and will be mostly Harry/Severus and will continue where ch.18 left off. Remember, review please and I will also try and speed up ch. 20's coming, although as school approaches quickly there's no telling what distractions may arise. Thanks for reading!

REPLIES TO REVIEWS:

**TwilightsCalling: **Hi! First reviewer when I put up ch.18 ;-) It's so fun corresponding back and forth! Always look foward to your emails! YOU ROCK, as usual! (grin) Thanks for the great review and I'm glad you loved the chapter and suspense (which this chapter sort of lacked but next won't!)! Hope you like this one too!

**lilacBookstar: **Two words; thank you! Hope you're enjoying this story and hope you review again! Thanx!

**Haunted: **Poor Harry indeed! Don't worry, he will. Thank you very much for your thoughtfulness and I will try and update this one sooner than last time!

**Hermionegirl4ever: **LOL I won't kill him. Where would the story go if I did:-) Thanks for your review and enjoy this one!

**Gabwr: **Here it is! Next chapter will be too. Thank you very much for the compliment ;-)

**darkmarkgirl: **Yes, it was. This chapter was a bit of a break from that, mostly to see what happened after Harry left, but next one will return to where we left off. LOL I liked that quote too. Made me laugh when I wrote it. Was too perfect to pass off! And you're very right about Voldemort! It's what he enjoys best, I think, besides physical torture- mental torture also. Thanx for the review and hope you like this chappy!

**shannyauburn:** Thanks so much! Hope you liked this chapter too and I will try my best to update soon for ya! ;-)

**Werewolf777: **Thanks! I will! And thank you for the PM; really helped motivate me to write more even when I didn't feel like it :-)

**irisheyesaresmiling: **Oh, that's a compliment I've never recieved before! THANK YOU! I'm very touched. :-) LOL I do, as you can tell. Livens up the story a bit, eh? Tee hee, me too. Hope you liked this one also!

**Flamegirl22: **Wow, thanx! Glad you liked it so much. It will be, definitely! That's what I always try to do with my characters; make them come alive on the paper. Of course, they're no match for JKR :-) But I wish. And I love emotion! We'll be seeing Remus again soon, but I'm not exactly sure when. Definitely within a few chapters tho! I like him too. Dumbledore is also my favorite! And Harry, McGonagall, Ron, Hermione, and Severus. Those are probably my top ones.

**Dumbledore Prince: **Thank you! I like angst, as you can probably tell, but I try and make it less, especially as the memory of Sirius' death becomes less painful for Harry. Sorry about the "orbs" thing. I will try and use them less but once in a while I still will for him. And thanks for the Macnair tip! I was wondering about that. Hope you enjoyed this chapter too!

**I-see-thestrals: **I will; thank you! Hope you keep reading and reviewing!

**#1harryginnyfan: **Mwhahaha! I am quite evil when it comes to cliffhangers :-D Thank you for the tip about Sirius and Bellatrix. I musta missed that. And yes, Harry and Ginny are going to be together, but mostly it's just hints and little comments that'll make the two blush and the like. Their relationship won't show till much later. For now, it's just Harry getting through his tough sixth year and going on to fufill his destiny. I'm sorry about the wait but here it is! I'm going to -try- and have not so long a wait for ch. 20, and I hope you keep reading and reviewing! Thanx :-)

**Babymeeko**: First of all, I totally love your name! So cute! Second, thank you very much for your sweet review and I love Harry/Dumbledore fics :-) I hope you like this chapter and hey, at least there wasn't too bad a cliffhanger this time ;-)

**C K Brook: **Sorry about the wait and here it is, ch.19 at last! Enjoy and hope you review more! Thanks!

Again, thank you to all the reviewers and all readers!

Now if you'll kindly press that little 'Submit Review' button... :-)

_Yours truly,_

_AngelMoon Girl_


	20. Traitor Revealed: Part 2

Hey there! I'm back in school (sob). Unfortunately, homework has been constant so it's hard to find writing time, but I manage! Without further ado, chapter 20!

Dumbledore Disclaimer: Alas, I do not own Harry Potter. What's that you say, dear child? You think I should? Ah, too kind, too kind. I am not worthy. Lemon drop?

**It Ends Now**

Part 20: "Traitor Revealed: Part 2"

Minutes later, Severus was sweeping down to the basement. As usual, Severus had received his daily Crucio before being given permission to torture Potter "senseless, until he revealed the Prophecy", as according to Voldemort. Now was his chance. He would set Potter free and give the boy time to run for it; hopefully through that route of action it would be sparing Severus discovery, now that Voldemort's faith in him was renewed. If not, everything would be ruined.

Severus felt his robes for the lump that was a numbing potion. It would work for one hour and give Potter enough time for a getaway and escape without his injuries slowing him down. The Potions Master knew there would probably be a plethora.

Good. It was still there.

The basement door appeared in his line of vision, and Severus took a moment to brace himself for the unknown. He had no clue what lay ahead or what state Potter was in.

He pushed open the door.

The first thing that hit him was the putrid smell. The stench of must, rotting flesh, dried and fresh blood, and human waste mingled in the already unclean air, attacking the senses with such magnitude that it made one's eyes water and immediately grasp their noise to plug it and be rid of the foul malodor perverting their oxygen.

Carefully descending the stairs and walking further into the darkness, Severus felt the chill of the dementor guard in the air from the sudden plummet of the temperature. He ignored the memories of worser times playing hauntingly in his head; the boy was his goal and that mission pulled him on like a lifeboat in turbulent waters.

And that was when he saw him, lying almost dead and barely lucid through the bars of a cell that should only be meant for wild, dangerous animals.

'No creature should EVER be subject to _this_,' was the first thought that came to Severus' mind as he observed the broken form of Harry Potter, his most hated student.

A rattling intake of foul breath behind Severus alerted him to the dementor's presence and close proximity.

"Expecto Partonum!" His pearly white partonus, a beady-eyed raven, flew at the dementor, hissing, claws outstretched and eyes sending daggers of doom. With a screech and swipe, it banished the Dark Creature.

Severus whispered the unlocking spell and the bars slid open smoothly. The boy looked even worse up close. Potter's eyes opened a fraction of an inch, as if they had just been squeezed shut in terror, and the Potions Master hissed in a surprised breath at what he saw in those glazed depths- pure nothing. The-Boy-Who-Loved, loved no more. All emotions had been swept away and now his soul looked as dead as if a dementor had stolen its previous life and vibrance away. But then, thankfully, recognition entered those green orbs, and hope, as Snape removed his mask and hood for the teen.

"It's me, Potter."

"P'fessor Snape?" the boy mumbled, and Severus felt his heart twinge just a little bit as the injury-worn 16-year-old tried and failed to sit up. "Why di'n't you come soon'r?"

Now that was a guilt catcher in the gut. Way to make a guy feel like crap.

As Severus looked over Potter, his stony cold resolve melted, if only for that moment. The thing was shivering with cold, whether he noticed it or not from all the pain he must be feeling. And his body was marred, past recognition, every inch, by gashes, burns, slits, fissures, incisions, and more, all oozing blood. Congealed and fresh, there was so much of it. It made Snape's stomach queasy at the sight, because never had he seen _so much_. All the pain that child went through, and Severus had just been slouched at his fireplace. That thought hit the man like a ton of bricks. No matter his hate, this was just a boy. A boy approaching manhood, but a boy nonethless.

"I couldn't. No one knew where you were and I was not called immediately when the other Death Eaters were. I only just arrived at the Dark Lord's beckon. I believe someone may have tipped me off about the spying duty and I am suspected of traitory," the greasy Potions master explained in a low voice. He decided to leave out the fact that his name had just been cleared, and that it was Lucius Malfoy who had been the informant. This was not a time for chit-chat over tea and crumpets. It was time for Potter to escape this hellhole.

Wasting no time, Severus pulled out the numbing potion and gave it to the weak boy, instructing him on its usage and how he had to get away from this place. Harry downed it and immediately looked much more coherent, and human. The eyes became that of the Boy-Who-Lived once more, full of strength and determination, rather than those of a stranger's.

"What now?" he questioned.

"I need you to scream for me."

"W-what? Why?"

"Idiot!" Snape growled. "I am supposed to be torturing you at the moment! Now, if you do not start screaming I will GIVE you a reason to, boy!" Gods, the child could be dense! This was no time to question authority! The pity turned to anger, as was usual in the case of Harry Potter. Anger and loathing just always seemed to fire up whenever he saw James Potter's son. Maybe it was just simply because Harry looked so much like his father, so when he flamed him with insults, it was like doing it to James. But the eyes- Lily's eyes- they were what made Severus stop. They were so intense and bore into a person's soul with the emotions they held.

Potter obliged instantly, screaming until Snape halted him. Then he stood and with an urgent air, the man grabbed his wrist and pulled him out of the cell.

"I'm going back up. Be quiet until someones sees you, which they undoubtedly will, then make a run for it. I'm not giving much hope that you will indeed find the exit, but you must try and get out. They are going to kill you soon; Voldemort has grown tired of your unresponsiveness to the torture."

And then he left the boy, praying to the fates that Potter would be able to escape this funhouse.

Once a few corridors away, Severus let out a breath and leaned against the wall, gathering his wits. It had been hard, seeing Potter like that. Potter had always seemed so invincible. But seeing him like a frightened, cowering, abused child... it was affecting. Now it would be doubly hard keeping up his cruel act in class to the boy. Because whenever he looked at Harry again, he would see the scared, battered little boy who needed him but was failed by the Potions Master. The guilt was unbearable. He should have done something sooner; anything!

Suddenly, a loud voice rang out, loud and clear. "HE'S ESCAPED! HE GOT OUT! POTTER ESCAPED!"

Severus choked, breath catching. Oh no. Potter was as good as dead now; he would surely be caught.

'Not if I can do something about it!' The other side of Snape's brain cried, and Severus shot off like a rocket, all the while using a tracking spell that would lead him in Potter's direction. He began sealing doors as he went- hopefully that would buy some time away from approaching Death Eaters.

"Colloportus! Colloportus! Colloportus!"

The din of racing Death Eaters from all directions was like a stampede; the sound of explosions, unbearable, coming from all over as people broke through the barriers with mostly imploding spells like Reducto.

Then came the next exclamation concerning Potter. "WE'VE GOT HIM IN THE ENTRANCE HALL!"

Whatever direction _that _was in. But hope leapt up in Severus Snape as he almost did a whoop of joy. Harry was so close to the exit... so close...

But it was not meant to be.

Not even twenty or so minutes later, a stunned Harry Potter was being magicked back up into the house again as Snape and all the other jeering Death Eaters looked on. He had been _so _close; so close to freedom!

"The little brat tried to escape, but it won't be happening again. I want heightened security around his cell! Now! Put the _thing _back in its cage," Voldemort ordered in a most nasty voice. The cold fury made his voice shiver. "That overlooked blunder almost lost us the most threatening thing to our whole existence!"

Murmuring was exchanged as Harry was floated away and Death Eaters pondered over how the Boy-Who-Lived could have possibly escaped with all his wounds. It was a mystery to all.

All but one, not including Severus.

Lucius Malfoy was eying the said man suspiciously, a knowing, yet furious look within his cold, gray orbs. He knew.

Snape swallowed, but returned the stare just as intensely, not looking away. To do so would have been cowardly, not to mention a total giveaway. So he matched Lucius boldly, look for look. As if saying, Just Try Me. Voldemort believed in Severus' genuinity, and that was all that really mattered in this dictatorship.

Lucius scowled and broke eye contact, haughtily swishing his robes as he turned away and limped out of sight. Evidently, he had already received his "punishment" for false information, if that and the just barely noticable incisions on his arms and legs were any indication.

Severus skulked off too, trying to think upon Plan B now that the first idea had failed miserably. And whatever he chose had to be quick, because Potter probably wouldn't live the night out, if the impatient Dark Lord had any say. No needed information meant no mercy, and Potter had crossed that line. It was evident to all he simply wouldn't give in. In a way, and though he'd never say it aloud, Severus admired that trait in the boy.

Snape found he had wandered into a lone, dimly lit corridor. Before any formulated thoughts crossed his mind, Severus felt a sudden burning on his chest. The man's fingers scrambled for a simple string necklace hung round his neck, hidden subtly beneath his night colored robes. His hands brought out a small, shiny red orb that hung like a locket off the string. It was glowing, and hot to the touch. Severus squeezed the small, crimson pearl and muttered,

"Phoenix Tear."

The tiny amber ball made a small fizzing noise, then the quiet voice of Albus Dumbledore spoke:

"Severus?"

"I'm here," Snape responded, just as low.

"Are you alone?"

"Yes, for now."

"Harry?"

Severus swallowed before replying. "He's... not good, Albus. I don't know what torture they've inflicted upon him but the boy's barely recognizable. I gave him a numbing potion and he almost escaped this maze of a mansion, but was caught. Voldemort is making plans to kill him tonight, I believe."

The other end was silent for a moment, then, "Do you know where you are? Voldemort's headquarters, I mean."

"No. I haven't been allowed out and probably wouldn't recognize the landscape anyways. No name has been given as of yet; it is highly disclosed," the Potions master explained.

Albus sighed through the transmission device made specifically for this mission. "I'm guessing Harry is now being closely guarded?"

Severus made a noncommital noise equivalent to 'Mm-hmm.'

Another sigh.

"I didn't want it to come to this, but to save Harry's life, we must. Severus, I'm asking you to give up your spying duties."

"But, but Albus! How will we get information from Voldemort? About his plans?" Snape spluttered in protest.

"There will be no point if Harry dies. The fate of this war depends on Harry's choice and actions," Dumbledore said in a somber tone. He sounded weary-worn.

Severus chewed his lip, brain whirling and formulating. "What do you want me to do?"

"You must risk exposure. Rescue Harry. Portkey him out of there. Do whatever it takes."

"I sensed a portkey barrier all around the basement where he's being kept. Apparition barriers are all around the house as well, so portkeying him out is our best bet. I'll have to get him out and past the guards and other Death Eaters before we could get to safety," Severus thought aloud.

"Whatever it takes, Severus, "Albus repeated. "Please, just get Harry back to Hogwarts alive."

"I'll do my best, Albus," the man swore.

"I'm counting on you, dear boy."

Then the connection was cut.

Tucking the device into his robes once more, Severus Snape turned and came face-to-face with none other than Lucius Malfoy.

"Well, well, well. I think I have all the information I need for the Dark Lord, traitor," the blonde aristocrat sneered. "Have fun in hell."

"Not before you go there first!"

And without thinking, Severus let his fist fly back and he punched Lucius hard, right in the face. Blood spurted everywhere from Malfoy's broken nose, and the man let out an incomprehensible exclaimation as his hand flew up to his stinging face. Immediately, his hands went dark red as the blood stained them and continued to run from his face like water.

Another punch, right in the gut, sent Lucius flying straight into the wall. With a sickening crack, he went unconscious and suck down the wall and to the ground, blood still running profusely, now down the side of his face, through his hair, and into a puddle forming on the floor.

"Good riddance," Severus breathed, eyes alight from the excitement of combat and being able to punch the lights out of his betrayer. Then he was off, in the direction of the basement.

oOo

Severus stood before the door that led to the prison room, preparing himself. What lay ahead was up to fate now. He could die. If he was caught, then his traitory would be made clear and the inevitable slow death and torture that would follow would be horrible, ghastly, and agonizing. On the optimistic side, he could live, escaping with Potter. But Severus tired not to think of either, because this was it, and worrying would only hinder his progress. He just kept his mind on the promise to Dumbledore and resigned himself to destiny.

Tapping his head, the Potions Master disillusioned himself and pushed open the door as noiselessly as possible. Entering the black abyss, Severus found his footing and tiptoed down the stairs. Fortunately, it creaked only once. Ahead, he could just barely make out two figures standing at the locked entrance to the cell. Snape sensed Harry's weak presence further in, but in the dark was unable to see him.

"Stupefy," Snape whispered, and a flash of red light shot from his wand and knocked one guard unconscious instantly. The second reacted immediately, going into fighting stance.

"Who's there?" his young voice demanded from beneath the hood, and not without a trace of fear over the invisible intruder. "Stupefy!"

Severus sidestepped the badly-aimed curse that had been aimed in his general direction. Just as another spell was on the Death Eater's lips, Severus sent a Silencio his way, and the spell hit dead on. The young robe clad man mouthed wordlessly.

Severus inched around the silently blubbering man and muttered, "Alohomora." The bars refused to budge though. 'Damn', Severus thought, trying a few complicated unlocking spells until at last one opened the lock and slid free the bars.

Suddenly, the watchful but silent Death Eater saw the movement and sent a slashing curse that had been used on Hermione in the Department of Mysteries fifth year. Given Snape's disillusionment, it was not aimed properly and only sliced Snape's shoulder just so. Nevertheless, the small incision drew blood, which would be visible and unreactive to the Disillusionment Charm.

"Dammit!" Severus cursed, and when the Death Eater sent "Impediamenta!", Severus instantly conjured a shield spell. The curse meant for him rebounded back at the mute minion of Voldemort, and he flew into the stone wall and was knocked out.

Severus rushed into the cell and cancelled the charm so Harry could see him. The boy was up against the wall and had been regarding the scene playing out before him, frightened yet having an inkling that it was Snape, which proved correct. He was shaking, looking worse for wear and as bad- no, worse, for more torture had been inflicted upon him for his previous escape attempt- as Snape had first seen him, however a bit more coherent and aware of the situation. Whether this was due to lingering affects of the potion, Snape's own presence, or what, the Potions brewer was unsure.

"Professor Snape!" Harry gasped, relief evident in his voice. "I tried; I almost got away but Voldemort-"

"I know, Potter," Severus cut in hurriedly. "I'm here to get you away myself. Don't get too hopeful, we cannot escape until beyond the barrier." He began searching for something, anything to use as a portkey. They had to get away, _now_. If anyone came down, it was all over. But the boy seemed intent on protesting.

"But... but your spying duties! You could be caught!"

"It's a risk I'm willing to take," Snape ground out in impateience, irritated as no suitable portkey tool appeared. Damn this dark! Meanwhile, Harry processed the comment with disbelief. Snape actually _wanted _to save him? He'd actually do all this, even risk capture, just to save him?

"Got it!" Severus produced a small chunk of stone wall that looked very much like a small rock. "This will be our portkey. I cannot activate it until outside the basement."

"I-" a sudden coughing fit overtook the boy, and Harry began spatting blood, hands futilely over his mouth to try and keep in the coppery tasting liquid so vital to him right now.

"Potter?"

Crimson, a lot of it, began staining the floor. Harry tried to stall his fit and speak again, but it was fruitless.

"Potter?"

Severus was at his side at once, afraid for his health. The boy was paling rapidly, and seemed unable to quell his hacking. A little bubble of blood formed at Potter's mouth and burst, drooling down his chin.

"I... (hack)...think...internal...(cough)..." was all Harry managed, fighting for control.

Severus understood what Potter was trying to get across. He was bleeding internally, and badly. No surprise, considering the torture he'd been through.

"I'm getting you out of here, now," Severus said, pulling Harry to his feet. But the 16-year-old sagged against him, unable to hold his weight up.

"Sorry...can't..." he gasped, clutching at Snape's robes desperately. Suddenly, his eyes grew alarmingly wide and frightened at something behind Severus.

"Behind you!"

CRACK!

Stars danced before Severus' eyes as a large object slammed down on his head. Dizzily, he turned slightly and saw the first Death Eater guard, revived, a large bat in hand. He transfigured it back into his wand and swished it in an arc, shouting,

"IMPEDIAMENTA!"

Severus was too dazed to react. He and Harry were blasted into the wall, Harry getting the full impact of it because he'd been behind Severus. The man was forcefully slammed into the poor boy.

"Potter!"

Harry's body slumped in his; he'd blacked out again.

"So it was you, _traitor_," the grizzly Death Eater snarled, spitting out the word in hateful distaste. Evidently, the stunning spell had worn off. "Sectumsepra!"

A bright flash of purple flew from the offending wand and Severus, arms full of Harry, was unable to move, Turning, he protected Harry with his body and hissed in pain as the slashing curse whipped his back. The open wound throbbed like a Crucio.

"SEVERUS SNAPE IS RESCUING POTTER!" the brown haired Death Eater yelled, raising the alarm.

"Stupefy!"

"Protego!"

Severus scooped up the limp Harry into his arms and moved away from his own reflected spell. It was hard dueling with a hundred some odd pounds of Harry Potter clutched lifelessly in your arms. The red curse hit the wall instead, sending debris everywhere and leaving a sizable crater.

The Death Eater covered his face as rocks flew at him. Severus took this opportunity and lunged, and, taken unawares, the man tackled the Death Eater and shoved him to the ground. Above, the sound of running was heard for the second time that day. There was no time to lose.

"STUPEFY!"

The Death Eater was knocked unconscious again. But he was a strong one; no doubt the curse wouldn't last for long. That theory had already been proven. Severus Snape tore off toward the stairs; heart pounding, robes flying, and running faster than he ever had his whole life. Only one thought raced through his mind: Get Potter to safety.

The door opening was near, and luckily, the oncoming Death Eaters hadn't reached this hall yet.

Severus bolted through the opening where he'd left the door open. He retrieved the wall piece unbelievably fast and tapped it.

"Portus!"

Then the door to the hallway was flung open, and framed in the doorway was none other than Lord Voldemort. Rage- no, pure _fury-_ burning in his eyes, robes askew and wand in hand. While Harry was sometimes able to see why Dumbledore was proclaimed as the Most Powerful Wizard of the Age, Severus could now see why Voldemort was hailed as the Darkest. Waves of terrible anger radiated off the creature, and his face was lined with such hate that the man looked like a terrifying, all-power weilding god. No mercy was found in those red depths. If looks could kill, Severus would be decomposing in his grave right now.

It was a race against time, for the portkey started activating just as the spells started flying and the Death Eaters charging. Voldemort was at the lead. In a horrible, rumbling, resounding, frozen cold voice, he shouted:

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

_One..._

The green light escaped the wand and flew in for the kill. Time seemed to freeze, except for that deadly curse as it homed in, almost in slow motion, on the traitor.

_Two..._

Severus could feel himself freeze up in terror as the green encompased his whole vision; whole being. He could see nothing but that bright, bright green light that whisked away all clarity...

_**Three**_.

* * *

A/N: Mwhahaha! I do believe that was the evilest cliffy yet! Reviews are oxygen to me; I need them to keep writing and they encourage me so much that people _really do _like my story. One thing you're probably all thinking is, Why hasn't Harry used the protering yet? Simple. It doesn't work. The house is protected, as we know from Snape, by anti-apparition wards. Therefore, since the protering uses a form of apparition when summoning Dumbledore, it cannot work. It would outside the grounds, but considering what Harry was doing while outside, I highly doubt he was thinking of the protering. I kinda think he was more focusing on the stampede of Death Eaters behind him ;-) Snape's does because it was created specifically for communication purposes only and with the wards in mind. No apparition is needed. 

Stay tuned! Next chapter is "Aftermath": What's happened to Snape? And Harry? Are they alive? Or will the portkey be bringing back only one alive user?

REPLIES TO REVIEWS:

**darkmarkgirl: **You're quite good at theorizing correctly, you know that? It's like you read my mind (or more precisely, the next chapter details!). Great job at guessing correctly at all the elements you mentioned and thank you so much for the compliments! I aim to please :-) Oh, and thanx for your second review too!

**Hermionegirl4ever: **Thanks. And I love getting such lovely reviews each time! Most definitely not slashy! Ugh! Yucky :-) Just interactions between the two, as you can see. About Harry dying: Well, not yet at least... mwhahahaha (see her plotting over her It Ends Now plotline). :-D Tee hee! But seriously, I'm not gonna. Where would the story go if I did kill him now? Thanks again for such an awesome review and keep 'um coming!

**lilacBookstar: **Don't worry, he will be. I'm so glad you like my story so much and I look foward to hopefully getting more reviews from you! You're so sweet :-)

**Haunted: **I will try and update soon for ya! Thank you so much for the great review and you rock! Love your PMs as well. (huggles!)

**#1harryginnyfan: **Hopefully this chapter satisfied your needs, and sorry for the evil evil cliffy. But here's what happened after the grave part :-) Hopefully it was exciting enough; I tried to get a good amount of fighting in. Can't wait to read your next review and thanks for the totally awesome review!

**TwilightsCalling: **I love you! (not literally, lol). OMG, I look foward to your emails everyday cuz it's just soooo much fun to write with ya! And I love your reviews! They make me laugh. Hopefully you liked this chapter, and I'm sure you'll let me know :-D (laughs feverishly at the prospect of more reviews and emails). Mwhahahaha... oh! And thanks for sending this to your friend! I'm so honored! Obsessed Harry Potter fans forever :-D

**Baldur**: Thank you Thank you Thank you! I promise I'll try and update the next chappy ASAP and I'm glad you like this story so much! I look foward to more reviews from ya!

**XForestxAngelX**: Thanks! What a nice review. I hope to hear from you more ;-) I'll try and update ASAP!

**raven2547**: Yay indeed! I finally posted! Thanx!

**Gabwr: **That's OK. Same with me! School is making it soooo hard to type. I liked it too! Hope you enjoy this chappy ;-)

**Naquadria:** Thanks so much! I'm such a stickler for perfection in my stories, can you tell? Especially for vocabulary! Yes, another cliffy! Mwhahahaha! I'd say this fic is gonna have at least 30 chapters, but for some reason I just keep getting more and more ideas and so the number of chapters just keep rising! I'm at about 36 chapter ideas, if you wanna get specific!

**Dumbledore Prince: **Thanks- that's OK! I did too about the last sentence! I didn't mean to stop it there, but I just did. I was wondering if someone would find that amusing. Probably he was a little, though I didn't mean it to be so. Anyways, thanks so much for sticking with me and hope this chapter is to your liking! And your stories are quite good too.

**Aisha-ladimoon: **I was wondering where you went! Missed ya! Welcome back! Great review, and that was perfectly alright. I really do love trauma, I'm sure you can see that, and thanks again! Enjoy! Oh, and hope you update your fic soon cuz I love love love it!

And there ya go! Please review, dear fans and readers, and I shall try and update ASAP!

Love,

_AngelMoon Girl_

**Wielder of the Almighty Pen :-)**


	21. Aftermath

I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry! (Grovels to her readers). You can probably tell, but my schedule has been so busy, what with homework, projects, school events, and more! A girl's gotta have _some _free time, sheesh! But that's what ya get when you get older! High school's so tough! But I find time for writing. Anyways, enough of my prattling on. Here's the _long_-awaited chapter 21!

Disclaimer: Last time I checked, I was not JK Rowling... but wait... (rushes over to mirror and starts futilely looking for any signs that she just may be JK Rowling. Some random dude comes on). "Sorry folks, but she's gonna be at that for a while. You should just skip down to the chapter..."

**NOTE**: If this chapter seems short, that is because I didn't get the chance to finish it. I felt really bad at how long it's been since the last update, so instead of making you all wait longer, I decided to give you a shorter chapter this time. Sorry! But it was the only way to post sooner rather than later. Next chappy may be around the same length or a little longer, since it was supposed to be part of this one.

**It Ends Now**

Part 21: "Aftermath"

Albus Dumbledore paced in his office, arms clasped behind his back and maginificently embroidered purple robes swaying in time to his walk. Tucked into his wizened hands was a crimson ball. No twinkle was present in his eyes; only deep-seated worry.

"Albus, that pacing is becoming pestiferous," Minerva McGonagall, seated in the chair across from the Headmaster's desk, said with a wan smile.

"Have fortitude. He'll get Harry away," Remus Lupin, seated in a chair beside the Deputy Headmistress, soothed edifyingly. Dumbledore sighed and sunk into his chair, burying his face into his hands and trammeled with doubt in his altruistic way. The act had become an idiosyncrasy lately.

"What if it doesn't work? What if both are caught and killed? I should never have egged Severus into going alone; I should have provided reinforcements!"

"Albus, of course you are not to blame!" Minerva exclaimed. She and Remus exchanged glances. Where was Albus' intrepidity when they needed it?

Dumbledore sighed again and stood, resuming his incontinent pacing.

"Really, Albus, not again! You're going to wear a hole into the floor at this rate!"

"I can't help it. I'm so worried, I can't sit still! Please, don't mind me, Minerva."

The Transfiguration teacher scowled, but there was a soft look behind her eyes. That Albus was this fearful was saying a lot, considering what he had faced in his 150+ years. He lost sleep over Harry, and constantly dreaded events like these. The child was like his son, the way he fretted!

He stopped at the large window overlooking the grounds. Night had descended and the moon shone in a crescent high above. A light snow sprinkled from the sky. Inside, it was warm and toasty. A fire roared in the crate within the office, pouring out heat waves. It looked and felt so normal, as if this night was just the same as all the others. As if a pyscho mad-man was not torturing a little boy right now; as if a certain greasy-haired man was not currently risking his own life to save a child he hated.

No, it didn't feel like that at all. But it was happening, and those in the room felt not the warmth of the room. They were wrapped up in their own anxiousness and trepidation.

They stayed silent for an interminable amount of time. No noise sounded, and they remained in their positions for who knows how long. Dumbledore at the window, and Minerva and Remus seated stiff-backed in the chairs, tensed and looking as if they would jump at the slightest pin drop. Finally, Albus broke the dream-like state they had fallen into.

"Harry's protering will need modifications." The old man withdrew his own, fingering it delicately. The ring glittered in the firelight.

"It didn't work?" the haggard werewolf inquired, sounding surprised.

"No. I felt it burn, many times, but was unable to apparate to wherever he is. The protering has a pull; an apparition pull that enables me to apparate to where he is, guiding along by the protering twin's power," the mage explained, turning away from the window to look directly at his companions. "But Severus informed me of the apparition wards around headquarters. It was as I suspected. That's why it wouldn't work."

He turned back to the window. His face was pinched and sorrowful in the reflection. "Poor Harry. He must have felt terrible when his calls for help went unreplied to."

Silence reigned in the room once more, and each delved into their morose thoughts of what might be happening at Voldemort's headquarters. Was Harry alright? Would Severus get him and get away? An hour or more passed. They lost track of time. It was like they were locked in time; in a place of eternal wait. It was a place of unknowing; whether Severus or Harry would even return to Hogwarts, ever, was beyond them. The tension and fear was almost tangible; the fate of the two they were awaiting, unfathomable.

Until-

"It's them!" Albus exclaimed, voice happier than it had been in the last couple days of terror and concern. The trio moved into action instantaneously.

oOo

The portkey pulled the two on in a whoosh of color and sound, until depositing them onto Hogwarts grounds. Severus felt his body slam into cold, wet grass, clumps of freshly fallen snow soaking his back and burning almost as if it were white-hot instead of freezing cold. His open and throbbing wound screamed in sheer agony, and Severus bit back a cry as he painfully sat up, struggling to bring his burden up with him. The man checked Harry's pulse. It was faint, but there. He looked around. The grounds were dark and quiet- a peaceful ambience.

"HARRY! IT'S HARRY!"

Well, farewell silence.

The Headmaster hadn't been the only one looking out the window when Severus and Harry had returned. Those who had also had raised the alarm and let many others know in their excitement: Harry Potter was back.

A small mob of students (all clad in bright, cheery patterned pajamas that made Severus want to vomit and adorned in warm, fuzzy cloaks) were racing at the two, varying expressions on all faces. Fear, happiness, wonder, excitement, anxiousness, and more. Snape growled and unconsciously held Harry tighter as they crowded in on all sides like eager Death Eaters for the torture, bringing the man back unpleasant memories of the flight just finished. A claustrophobic person would have suffered a panic attack by now.

"Imbeciles! Get back and give the boy space or ALL the Houses will find themselves in the negative points within the second!" he threatened menacingly in a foreboding hiss.

"Severus! Severus!"

The Headmaster, Transfiguration teacher, and werewolf pushed through those gathered. Albus dropped to his knees and felt Harry's wrist.

"Is he...?" Minerva questioned in an oddly strained voice.

"No. It's faint though," Severus answered weakly for Albus. His adrenaline was leaving, pain and exhaustion taking its place.

"Out of my way! Let me through! I must get through!" A woman's voice proclaimed authoritatively. The throng parted like the Red Sea and let in the matron. She immediately conjured a stretcher and floated Harry onto it, taking no time in hurrying up to the Hospital Wing. Remus followed suit, beside Harry with a concerned look plastered over his features. Some students looked ready to follow, but a warning glare from McGonagall killed those ideas before they were put into action.

Albus tenderly helped Severus up and supported the man as he struggled for balance, legs failing him. However much he staggered and leaned on Dumbledore though, the uptight Potions Master was the same as always, never losing his edge.

"Well? Are you brainless baffoons done gawking yet? GET TO BED!" he shouted sardonically.

The students scattered in fear. An angry, hurt Snape was not a Snape you wanted to mess with. Said Potions brewer ignored the faint chuckle that escaped Albus' lips. The Headmaster began helping Severus limp up to the castle. Professor McGonagall strided beside them, pulling her cloak closer to her body to ward out the chill.

"How in Merlin's name did you escape, Severus?"

Snape laughed darkly. "Well, it certainly wasn't easy. Nearly lost Potter in the process!"

McGonagall looked slight of heart. She muttered, "I don't think I want to know, then. You'll just make me more worried. Perhaps once he is all better I will be willing to listen without feeling the urge to rush to his side immediately."

"You and your coddling. The boy doesn't need all the pampering you adorers lay on him."

"Severus, your heart is as cold as ice."

"Why thank you."

oOo

Half an hour later, Severus was in a starched white hospital bed, tucked in so tightly he could hardly move. Currently, the man was sitting up against the pillows, hands folded neatly and resting upon his lap. Albus sat perched upon the bed, listening intently as Snape explained the details of what had happened. The expression on the old mage's face never faltered or changed throughout the whole interview, but if one looked close enough they could see the underlining sorrow hidden in his cerculean orbs.

"And that was what happened," Severus finished. Dumbledore glanced over at Harry's bed, which was across from Snape's. Harry looked so young and vulnerable; so helpless right now. He was asleep, bandages layering his body like a second skin of an onion's. Balm ointment was being applied to some of the burns right now by Madam Promfrey. Her mouth was chiseled in a tight line; no doubt she was eavesdropping in on the gridy details of what Harry had been a victim to.

"Again, Severus, I'm extremely proud of you. You risked your life to save this child, and I do not know how I can repay you. I am so, _SO _proud, dearest boy."

Severus couldn't help the tiny smile that broke out on his face. Being praised so highly by the most powerful Light wizard of the age was no small matter.

"I'm also pleased to see you are slightly closer to Harry. It takes a great deal of courage to overcome unfounded prejudices, but you have done nicely. It's good to see you are beginning to soften to him; you had been a bit too harsh." There was a small, humorous glint to Albus' eyes, and the twinkle was ignited.

"I-what?" Severus' smile was wiped right off his face as the words hit home. Albus laughed outright.

"Hide it all you like, Severus, but I see it. Perhaps Minerva is tricked by your facade, but not me. I may be old, but I am not blind yet!"

"Albus, I'm outraged you would think such an absurd thing!" the man spluttered, clearly affronted. "I shall die before I become a coddling, emotional, groveling member of the Potter fan club! In fact, you have my permission to _Avada Kedavra _me when I go that insane!"

The laughter gleamed in Dumbledore's eyes as he stood. "Deny away all you wish, but I'm just letting you know how happy I am at your revelation that Harry is _not_ his father, nor as arrogant as you always claimed."

"Albus..." Severus growled, clearly not done with him. He looked ready to choke with indignation, and was going red in the face.

"Good day," Albus winked, turning and leaving the ward while humming gaily to himself.

Severus scowled. Honestly, how dare Albus think such nonsense! It was preposterous! Utter rubbish!

Still, Severus couldn't help but look over to the Boy Who Lived.

Maybe, just maybe (and he would drop dead if he ever told a soul this!), his point of view of Potter had changed. But only a _teeny, teeny_ bit (in his head, Severus stressed the word).

* * *

A/N- :-) LOL! Yah, "a teeny teeny bit"... hardly anything at all... you just keep telling yourself that, Snape! Yah, he's just a little angry today... watch out for his random rants about Harry... tee hee! And so ends Severus' POV. It's back to Harry next chapter. So did you like my more light-hearted chapter? Review! Thanks for all my reviews for last chappy too! Replies below! 

Next chapter, which is sort of like the continuation: "Gratitude".

REPLIES TO REVIEWS:

**Haunted: **Thank you! Hope you enjoyed this chappy and I will do my best to get the next one up quicker! Byes :-)

**BlackHalliwell: **Thanx ;-)

**darkmarkgirl: **As always, correct on all accounts there! True, true, a big oxymoron. Same here; it was fun to write Severus in a different POV; plus the action was wicked fun to do! LOL. Yep, I tried for that. Glad you liked Voldy's description. Cool! I love that, when you feel like you're in a FF :-) Mwhahaha cliffys are most fun and evil to write!

**Xavier Phoenix: **Sorry about the wait, but I hope you liked it and also hope to hear from you more! Thanx:-)

**TwlightsCalling: **Whew, been a while since I updated (although not since I emailed you... lemmee think... must have been about 45 minutes ago :-) lol!) Glad you liked the chapter and I hope you like this one too! Glad you liked the hint (coughyouknowcough). Your review made me laugh, tee hee. Such evil death threats. Review! And I'll update ASAP, hopefully. Byes till the next email!

**Gabwr: **Yep, I do! Tee hee. Me too. Was very fun writing that part, lol! Hope you enjoyed!

**C K Brook: **Woah, really? I'm so touched! Sorry for the wait, but here's the chappy! Yes, I do want to... :-D

**I-see-thestrals: **Thank you thank you! Huggles! I'll update ASAP!

**Naquadria: **Most evil indeed :-) See, that's my evil smiley person. lol! MWHAHAHA! Ooh, good luck! My best wishes your way! I think I checked it out... it's been a while :-) Did I? If not, I will! Awww, thanx! Means a lot! And sorry for the long update. Been very busy.

**jayley: **I'm sorry you thought that, but hopefully you were enlightened by my reply. If you have any more questions, don't hestitate to ask, and enjoy! Review if you wish :-)

**Iniysa: **Yep! Thank you! Review and I'll update ASAP :-)

**shannyauburn: **Thanx! I will and hope you enjoy:-)

**#1harryginnyfan: **Quite, lol :-) Shame on me! But no cliffy, really, this chappy. At least, not as bad as last, lol! Enjoy, and happy reading!

**lilacBookstar:** Awww...Thanx! Means a lot! Hope you enjoy, and totally cool! Hope they like it too!

**Dumbledore Prince: **Thank you. I guess it was really good then :-) Probably not, but I guess I was :-) I'll try to in later chapters, but perhaps he is a bit more in character for this chapter? I'm just trying to show that the experience has changed him. I love constructive criticism! Always welcome.

**sirius115: **Glad you came back to it! Missed ya :-) Anyways, enjoy! And review :-)

**bookworm622: **For once, someone who does, lol! Yep, you got that right! Enjoy, and review! Thanx! I'll update ASAP :-)

Until next time,

AngelMoon Girl


	22. Gratitude

Wow, it's been a long time. I've have been so busy it isn't even funny, especially with the holidays. I've had no time to write! It sucked! Believe me, writing is a lot funner than homework... But here's the chapter, and I hope you all will forgive me!

Disclaimer: I DO, I DO, I DO, I DO! (Harry Potter policemen run up and shoot her with a tranquilizer dart and then cart her off to the asylum).

**It Ends Now**

Part 22: "Gratitude"

It was dark. Like his cell. He was in Voldemort's lair.

The Death Eaters were coming at him again. They held a bottle. Oh no! Not again! Not more acid liquid...

"Potter, take this," a distorted voice ordered.

No, no, I won't... I refuse...

"Potter..."

Something touched his shoulder and he let out a strangled yell of fright. They were going to torture him again. Another thing touched the small of his back and he was being pulled up.

No... no more...

"NO!"

Harry couldn't take anymore and struggled wildly, using all the strength he had to fight the Death Eater pulling him up.

"LET ME GO!"

He broke free of the grip and flung himself away- and fell off a bed, hitting the floor hard. Stars erupted in front of his eyes.

Wait... a bed? Since when did Voldemort accomodate his "guests" with beds?

Someone chuckled sarcastically. Another voice, a female, said:

"Harry! Oh for goodness sake's child, I'm not going to hurt you!"

The terror finally receded and Harry focused on his surroundings. White room, white bed... He was in the Hospital Wing, not the cell.

The "Death Eater" was Madam Pomfrey, holding a vial of medicine she had been trying to give him. She looked a mixture of concerned, exasperated, and flustered.

Across from the matron and Harry's bed was Professor Snape, sitting up in bed and looking perfectly fine and back to normal. Surprisingly, a small, humorous smile danced around the corners of his mouth. It looked very out of place.

"I must say, Potter, that was quite a fight you put up. Do you always do that when people wake you up?" he asked sardonically.

Harry blushed furiously in embarassment.

"Potter, kindly get back in bed or you'll make your injuries I couldn't heal worse, if you haven't already," the nurse requested. Still red, Harry complied, pulling himself up with a wince and struggling to get himself back in bed. It cost a lot more effort than he thought it would, and so it was then that he took a second to examine himself. His chest and back were wrapped tightly in bandages, as was his arm. He poked it.

"Ouch!"

"You're not the brightest crayon in the box, are you?" Snape was still watching him, eyes gleaming in contained mirth.

"Severus," Pomfrey warned lightly.

Harry bit his lip in anger, but said nothing.

"You know, Severus, you're due to be released today, since you're perfectly healed," the nurse said nonchalantly, but her meaning was clear.

"Yes, I did know," the greasy-haired man replied smoothly; almost cheekily. He didn't move position, only folded his arms upon his chest. Madam Pomfrey turned so her back was to Snape and began undoing Harry's wrappings, ointment in hand. Therefore, Harry saw the grimace that graced her face because Snape wasn't taking the hint.

Still, she tried again. "Severus-"

"I know, I know, I'll leave now. I was merely enjoying the sight of Potter flailing around like a newborn monkey, but since that is over..."

Harry blushed again in anger. How dare he!? Was this really the man would had saved him; who Harry had entrusted his life too? Boy, if Pomfrey weren't there, there'd be hell to pay...

Snape dislodged himself from the bed and collected his things that had been sent to him over time since he first gotten here a few days ago and experienced utter boredom that consisted of watching occassional sluggish flies on the wall from the hallways and watching Potter sleep... God, it was awful...

Harry watched Snape and ignored the cold gel Pomfrey was now rubbing on his red and flaky arm. He still remembered what it had looked like while in the cell and was glad it at least resembled an arm now. He watched as Snape collected his things up and then noticed how the man seemed to walk stiffly and favor the wand as using to float his possessions rather than carry them, despite how few there were...

Then Harry realized, Snape was still in pain from the wound. That he had gotten from saving Harry. And some unexpected pity for the man began creeping up in his heart, and gratitude...

"Now Severus, you need to put that lotion on your back that I gave you every night, or-"

"Yes, yes, yes," the said man cut in, and Harry knew he was doing it so Harry wouldn't hear about his injury.

_But why?_ Harry thought. Was Snape actually showing some form of protectiveness?

The Potions Master just became more and more of a mystery as Harry pondered about him and what had happened between the two the night Harry was rescued.

* * *

"Potter?" 

A few hours later, Harry was sitting up in bed and bored. He wasn't tired, and had just woken up from a nap. He wasn't in pain either, which was a relief after it all came back once, luckily, Snape had left. But he'd been given a Pain Reliever Potion and felt vaguely close to fine, albeit very, very bored.

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey?"

"I need you to prepare yourself." She was standing at the door, hand on the knob, and quite serious.

"What?" But it was too late, she had already opened the door and an ear-shattering scream broke through the air like a whip, shrilly permeating the silence.

"HARRY!!!"

The next thing he knew, he was being smothered by bushy hair as wet tears were being cried onto his pajamas.

"Oh, Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry!"

"Hermione," Harry laughed. "I can't breathe."

Hermione shot up, watery eyes wide. "What? Oh, I'm sorry... OH MY GOD! Did I hurt you? Oh Harry, I'm so sorry; I didn't realize, God, I feel awful, are you OK? Did I hurt you-"

"Hermione, I'm fine!" Harry cut in to her rambling panic attack. "Seriously. I just had Pain Reliever Potion and feel perfectly normal, aside from some aches."

"Oh, I'm glad," the bushy-haired brain child sighed in relief. Beside her, Rom was laughing hysterically.

"Alright, mate?"

"As good as Harry Potter can be," Harry replied. Ron knocked him upside the head, foregoing the arm that he normally would have punched but was now covered in bandages. Harry flinched at the unexpected act, but laughed right after as Ron turned stern.

"Don't you ever pull that stunt again, or I swear to Merlin, will kill you before Voldemort does!"

Harry laughed until tears came to his eyes, imaginging the sight of a livid Ron marching up to Voldemort's hideout, and then the face of Voldemort as Ron killed his ultimate arch-nemesis _he_ was destined to kill. It felt like so long since he'd laughed like that, but Harry knew he'd missed it; missed them so bad. It felt good to be with his friends again.

oOo

They talked for half an hour, keeping the conversation as far away from Voldemort and Harry's absence as possible, until Harry himself brought it up.

"You guys... probably already know that Snape saved me, right?" Harry said quietly.

"Yah..." the two responded, wondering where this was headed.

"Yes, well, I have something I need to do... related to that..."

The other two friends were confused, and exchanged a glance. They got the feeling Harry was uncomfortable with this and was trying to stay as far away from saying exactly what he wanted to do as possible.

"Harry, what're you trying to say?" Hermione prompted.

"Er... um... I wanted... I need... I need you to to get my invisiblity cloak for me," Harry said at last, still dancing around the direct question.

"What!? Why?" Ron cried.

"Harry, you know we won't do that! You're not supposed to be walking around, much less sneaking around!" Hermione cried.

"It's not sneaking!" Harry exclaimed affrontedly.

"Then what is it?" Ron interrogated, giving Harry a penetrating look that threatened doom if he didn't answer the question.

"I... I want to thank Snape." Harry blushed, fumbling with a loose string off the bedsheet as he looked everywhere but at them.

"What!?"

"Harry Potter, are you feverish?" Ron asked, feeling his forehead. "I never thought I'd hear the word 'thank' and 'Snape' in the same sentence!"

"Ron, he saved my life! I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him! You understand, right? This is something I have to do..."

Ron gave him a speculate, searching look, then at last nodded. "You're right."

"We'll do it Harry, but you swear to us that you won't do anything else! Just thank Snape, and come back. It isn't good for you to be walking so much in your condition..." Hermione prattled.

"I swear, Hermione," Harry said, looking her in the eye and meaning it.

"Tonight, then. We'll come under it and give it to you," Ron planned, using his tactical brain to sort it out. "How about 7:00?"

"No, it has to be when Pomfrey's asleep. From the many times spent in here, I know it's 10:00, after a last check-up," Harry explained.

"Done."

oOo

It was a few minutes before ten, and Harry was alone in the dark Hospital Wing, awaiting his friends with some anticipation and a lot of nervousness. He kept his eyes situated on the door, waiting for it to open. Any second now...

The big hand reached twelve and chimes dung out. At that moment, the ward's doors creaked open, and Harry heard a faint rustling, like that of the wind. Next thing he knew, Ron and Hermione had appeared by his bedside. They handed the cloak to him.

"Here. Remember your promise. Just Snape's," Hermione reminded, a touch of worry in her voice.

"I know, 'Mione. I'll be OK."

"Good luck getting him to listen," Ron snorted darkly. "I still have my doubts. He's just going to rat you out and then you'll be in trouble. Why _are _you doing this at this time of night, anyways? What if he's asleep?"

"I need to get him at a time when he's alone, and Pomfrey can't catch me. It's the only way," Harry replied. "I'll take my chances."

"Well, good luck Harry. Don't get caught," Hermione wished. "We've got to get back Ron, before Madame Pomfrey hears us." Ron nodded and with a last wave, he and Hermione snuck out the door.

Harry took a deep breath and looked down at his father's cloak, feeling its silkiness, and thinking, _'This is it. It's now or never'_. He pulled it on over his head and watched as his body slowly disappeared, as if into thin air. Then he threw back the covers and got out of bed.

His legs weren't ready to hold him yet, especially since he hadn't walked since in Voldemort's lair. His sore leg muscles shuddered with the weight and before Harry knew it, he was tumbling to the ground with a humungous crash. His invisibility cloak crumpled around him and the boy nervously pushed it under the bed for fear Pomfrey would see half a Harry if she came running out.

He spent a few tense moments just laying there, waiting for the nurse's light to go on and her to come bustling out, scolding, but nothing happened and finally the Boy-Who-Lived got the courage to fish out the cloak and softly throw it back on over his body.

Now the hard part, getting up again.

Harry grabbed the corner of his nightstand and with both hands and shaking legs, pulled himself up. He began breathing deeper and more strainedly, thinking perhaps he should wait until he was better to thank Snape, because it just wasn't worth the effort. But a little voice in the back of his head reprimanded himself, saying he would lose his nerve far before then.

_I've got to do this, I've got to do this... c'mon Harry, walk!_ the boy shouted in his mind, using all his willpower to put one foot in front of the other and using beds as support. It took a few minutes, but he was finally out of the Hospital Wing and looking down the great expanse of dark, creepy hallway with only the light of torches high above, casting shadows that danced on the wall like gypsies in night.

_This is it..._

oOo

Almost half an hour later, a panting and sweaty Harry reached the dungeons with a great sigh of happiness. It had taken so long to get there, and he had had to use to walls to cling to. Luckily, no encounter with certain tiger cats or grizzly caretakers had been made, and Harry hoped there wouldn't be any time soon.

The door to Snape's office came into view, a flickering light under the door, and the boy gulped, suddenly having regrets and wanting to take back the mission. Did he _really_ want to face Snape right now, and do the impossible- _thank_ the ill-tempered man? I mean, he was just going to get in trouble!

Memories of earlier that day flooded Harry's mind.

_"You're not the brightest crayon in the box, are you?"_

_"I know, I know, I'll leave now. I was merely enjoying the sight of Potter flailing around like a newborn monkey, but since that is over..."_

Anger bit at Harry's insides. Why thank the man? He did enough to Harry that the greasy bat should be thanking Harry for coping with _him_ all these years!

But then, visions of Voldemort's mansion and Snape helping him came to the boy.

_"I'm here to get you away myself. Don't get too hopeful, we cannot escape until beyond the barrier."_

_"...It's a numbing potion, laced with pain-killing solution and rejeuvination brew. This will work for one hour and one hour only. Escape. Find the exit as stealthily as possible. I am unaware of its location, but it's on the floor above, as that is the first floor. We're in the basement. You must hurry."_

He had _saved _Harry's life, and had got him out when no one else could. He could have denied the job, but he did it, risking his own life in the process.

_The _least _I can do is thank him_, Harry told himself. He coughed lightly and almost immediately, the door was flung open and a furious Snape towered in the entrance.

"Who is it!? Show yourself!"

Harry froze in terror. The man looked ready to murder someone.

"I said show yourself!" he withdrew his wand in a smooth flick and pointed it directly where Harry stood. Harry threw off his invisibility cloak for fear of being cursed into oblivion by the sour wizard.

"It's me, professor!"

"Potter! What the _hell _are you doing out of the Hospital Wing in your condition!" he cried angrily, taking in Harry's palor and slight wheezing.

"Professor, I wanted to... to..." Harry seemed to be struggling to find the right words, and he thanked god it was dark enough that Snape couldn't see him turning pink in embarassment.

"Say it, boy! I've half a mind to curse you into a baboon, then you would at least look the way you sound!"

"Thank you!"

"What?"

"I said, thank you. For-for saving me. I'd...I'd probably be dead if it weren't for you. So... so... thanks." And then Harry pulled the cloak hurriedly over his head and fleed away on a hobble, not stopping till, almost hyperventilating and shaking, he reached his warm, comfortable bed in the Hospital Wing. Before pulling the covers back over his head, the boy stuffed his secret invisibility cloak under the pillow so Pomfrey wouldn't see it in the morning. Then he closed his eyes and tried not to think of what he had just done, still blushing profusely.

Perhaps if he had looked back, he would have seen the astonished and incredulous look gracing the man's features, so out of place it looked like a pink rabbit in a desert. But then the expression was gone, hidden beneath the mask of nothingness as the black bat swooped back into his cave, with nothing but the light of the fire burning beneath the cauldron to flicker off the walls. Then there was nothing as the door closed with a light _snap!_ behind him.

* * *

A/N: At last, I've posted the chapter! Again, I'm sorry for the wait but midterms are coming and each new chapter proves harder and harder to post as schoolwork burdens me more. But I'm not stopping till this story is done and so you can count on me! Please review, you wouldn't believe how much it makes me want to write! 

Next chapter- "Aftereffects". More with Harry's trauma coming! He won't escape from this completely unscarred emotionally.

THANK YOU SO MUCH TO ALL MY REVIEWERS! You all are the absolute best and rock my world, every time I read a new one! I don't have time to write replies to reviews, but I refuse to go without recognizing those who did. Thank you soooooooooooo much to:

**Malaika Pyralis**,** darkmarkgirl**, **shannyauburn**, **Haunted (**Thanks for the PM; love getting those almost as much as reviews!), **Gabwr**, **TwilightsCalling** (keep those emails coming, I looooooove reading them!), **lilacBookstar**, **C K Brook**, **jayley**, **Dumbledore Prince**, **crazy person **(lol**), IrishEyesAreSmiling**,** BlackHalliwell**, **Iniysa**,** Naquadria**, and** SushiZ**.

Thank you all so much and I will update ASAP!

Yours truely,

**AngelMoon Girl**


	23. Aftereffects

Hi! Lotsa great reviews for last chapter, thanks! Not much to say, other than enjoy and you better review or I will cry! School is as usual; suffocating homework and no free time. Sorry this chapter isn't as long; not a lot is happening... yet... (evil cackle)

Disclaimer: Yaaaaah, um, about that... er... I don't own Harry Potter? (flinches as she waits for the gasping and screaming and wailing to follow this totally unexpected statement that she hopes won't cause world disaster)

**It Ends Now**

Part 23: "Aftereffects"

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!"

Harry winced. When Madam Pomfrey was mad, she could climb quite high on the rungs of the decibel scale.

"You have been walking!"

"Er..." Harry couldn't think of any suitable response other than a lame one syllable.

_Nice, Potter_, he scolded himself. Madam Pomfrey was doing her morning check-up, and Harry's sore leg muscles had betrayed him.

"Even when I _specifically _said that you needed to give your legs a rest and wouldn't be able to walk for a few days, you _completely_ disregarded that and did anyway! Now it will take even longer for them to heal!"

"Er... um... sorry?"

Unfortunately, she didn't reply, only muttered on about 'Like father, like son' and 'Potters driving her to early death'. She didn't catch the slight upturn of Harry's lips at her first comment.

"Mr. Potter, what on earth prompted you to go walking? A midnight stroll in the moonlight- no, on second thought, I don't even want to know." She then fixated him with a death glare that any grown man would have shriveled under. "Don't you even _think_ about leaving this bed for the week you will be spending here healing!"

Harry sighed, responding dutifully, "Yes, Madam Pomfrey."

She whished on her heel, grumbling on in a now incoherent ramble. As soon as she was in her office, Harry let out a deep breath he'd been holding in and slouched down the pillows depressedly. Well, at least her berating hadn't been as bad as he thought it would be when she'd first discovered his strained muscles. He lifted up the pillow and made sure his invisibility cloak was still out of sight. The boy moaned. Now he was sentenced to eternal boredom for a week straight...

Another slightly dramatisized moan and then the boy threw a hand over his eyes to block out the sunlight. What else could he do but sleep? He'd be lucky if the mediwitch would even let him have visitors today.

But even as he drifted away into sleepy darkness, a smile graced his features as he remembered the night before. It seemed so surreal that he had actually thanked Snape, but the boy had done it and had relieved the small burden weighing down in his chest.

oOo

The week of confinement passed by as Harry'd predicted, although Pomfrey had taken mercy on him and let in visitors later on. After a last check-up, the boy was deemed able to leave, though his burned arm was still in a cast and sling and the bandages round his chest area had to stay. Harry also had to promise the matron he would come up to the ward every night for her to change the bandages and take his remedial potions. But anything was better than being locked up in that suffocatingly sterile white room that he'd seen far too much of this year.

Harry's classes resumed, and though he was behind on schoolwork, Hermione helped a lot and he soon was up to speed within a few days. The only class he hadn't found mercy in was Snape's work-wise, but surprisingly, Snape was using the famous Dursley game of "Pretend the freak isn't there". While the ignoring of the Boy-Who-Lived didn't irk the said heart-throb in the least, it was the fact that the snappy man hadn't said one truely insulting thing about Harry since the rescue (even the exchange in the Hospital Wing had been more teasing than cruel). It was as though while he still wasn't acknowledging Harry, he still was treating him more civilly than usual because of the lack of insults. And that, in a weird way, made Harry's heart warmer.

"Harry? It's time for Care of Magical Creatures," Ron said, rousing Harry from reverie. The bell had just rung, announcing their free period after lunch was over. He put a hand on Harry's shoulder, but drew back when Harry flinched violently.

"Oh! I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" the freckled teen asked apologetically.

"No, I'm fine," Harry said, rubbing the spot Ron had touched. It was weird. It felt as if he'd been scalded in fear at the touch, as if Death Eaters were terrorizing him again. He'd been back in the cell, if only for a moment.

"Alright," the red head returned, skeptically. "Let's go."

Harry nodded.

But the incident with Ron wasn't the only one of its kind. Over the course of the next couple days, flinches like that happened any time someone touched the black haired boy. The twitches and flinches ranged from mild to severe. A simple tap made Harry twitch. Unexpected bodily contact sent Harry into shivers and spasms. But waking him up was the worst and most violent, as Ron found out the next morning.

"Harry? Sleepyhead, wake up!"

He shook the boy, a bad choice.

Harry's eyes flew open in terror, and he yelled in fear. Luckily, the two boys were the only ones left, or Harry would have been mortified at what he did next. He threw himself from Ron, shaking and yelling as he dove into the corner, pulling himself into a ball of protectiveness.

"No more, please, no more," he whined pitifully. Ron was too shocked to react, but soon regained his senses and inched towards Harry.

"H-Harry?"

"Go away, filthy Death Eater," Harry mumbled, shielding his face. "I said no more!"

"And just who are you calling a 'filthy Death Eater', you clod!" Ron exclaimed, an edge of teasing in his voice as he reverted back to normalcy. He was lost; he didn't know what to do and was just trying to get a reaction from Harry by sarcastically retorting.

Luckily, it worked. Harry slowly stopped shaking and stumbled up from his position, blushing and embarassed. But Ron was a good friend; he only laughed at his joke and never mentioned the incident again, for Harry's sake.

Although the next morning he refrained from touching Harry, and used the yelling method, which worked much better in getting Harry awake without another episode.

Still, although Ron and Hermione didn't discuss these weird flinches and overreaction with Harry, they did amongst themselves, and in worry. What was causing this? Was Harry in pain? In trauma?

Finally, the worry got to them and they decided to talk to Madam Pomfrey. If anyone knew anything about Harry's health, both physical and mental, it was her.

"Madam Pomfrey?"

The said nurse glanced up from giving a first year Pepper Up for a nasty looking cold.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley? Miss Granger?"

"Could we... talk to you for a moment? Alone? It's about Harry," Hermione spoke up, eyes pleading.

"Harry?" she repeated, concern filling her face. Then she chuckled. "What has he done now? Is he not wearing his cast?"

"It's nothing with his injuries... we don't think, at least," Ron replied. Madam Pomfrey looked around at the little patient she'd been helping.

"Well, off you go."

Ron could have sworn the first year looked angry at having to leave just at the point of revelation, but didn't disobey the sometimes moody mediwitch. Probably another Harry Potter adorer... god, they made him sick. Really, he could give them lots of dirt about Harry that would dash their obsession of him! Like how Harry sometimes drooled in his sleep, and had bad breath in the morning... the list went on and on. Ron would have smiled at his thoughts, were it not for the serious situation.

"Yes?" Pomfrey prompted, after making sure the nosy first year was gone.

"Lately... Harry's been flinching when anyone so much as touches him. Sometimes he gets it so bad he has a panic attack, like when you wake him up in the morning," Ron explained. The older witch looked contemplative, then said,

"Yes, I encountered that too. The first time he woke up he struggled out of my hold and right onto the floor."

"Why is he having such an adverse reaction to touch though?" Hermione inquired.

"My guess is some lasting trauma from his time in You-Know-Who's hideout. He went through a lot, if his injuries allure anything. It's no surprise he flinches at touch, especially unexpected. It probably brings him memories or flashbacks of the torturing."

"What can we do?" the best friends asked in unison. Pomfrey shook her head.

"Nothing, I'm afraid. Only time and Harry himself can heal this trauma. Don't worry too much; you'll find he will get better with time. Soon, you may be surprised to find he has not flinched or had a panic attack at all. But until then, just keep everything normal and take care of him as you always have. He means a lot to all."

"Thank you," Hermione said. "This helps a lot."

Pomfrey nodded, then grinned humorously. "And do remind him to take his potions tonight. He tried to skive off yesterday... that James Potter reincarnation!"

A chorus of laughs erupted from the trio, breaking the serious moment.

* * *

A/N: I am a review fanatic. Feed my addiction. Nurture my being. :-D 

Thanks for reading! I know it was shorter than usual, but go with it! I don't have much writing time! Next chapter: "Death". Oooh, let the speculations begin!

REPLIES TO REVIEWS:

**Haunted: **I'm glad you did! I hope everything went well for you and him and thank you also for PMing me! Made my day! Enjoy this chappy!

**darkmarkgirl: **Yes, that's the downside of Author's Notes that get deleted. But still, I can't stand it if the chapters are out of order! Perfectionist me! Me too; and I'm glad you liked it so much! This story will follow the rest of the school year but I will probably do some sort of epilogue. Enjoy!

**kittyrunner: **Thank you, and you are so very right about Snape! Now you update your story soon too; it is unbelievably awesome and you have such a talent for writing! You've left me in suspense. Enjoy this chapter!

**lilacBookstar: **You are right on the spot with your comment! He is so obviously covering it up :-) Very true. Thanks for the review; enjoy!

**Englishgirl: **Thank you; loved your review! Hope you do again! Enjoy!

**Riker15: **No, YOU are awesome :-) Thanx!

**TwilightsCalling: **Yay, luv your reviews and emails! Best ever! Hau! lol. Mmm, cake sounds so good right now! Glad you enjoyed the chapter and enjoy this one!

**jayley: **You're right, but she is also exasperated because she's trying to give Harry medicine and he's fighting her. It's not cruel exaggeration, just slight exaggeration. I also put she was a _mixture _of concerned and exaggerated. Though I probably could have used a better word. Thank you so much for reviewing and enjoy!

**hyper-swain: **Oops! One of my earlier mistakes. Must not have noticed while I was editting. Thanks so much and enjoy!

**Gabwr: **That's OK. I always look foward to yours. Enjoy this chapter!

THANK YOU TO YOU ALL! I hope you all review again too!

**AngelMoon Girl**


	24. Death

Not much to say, other than sorry for the wait. Just enjoy the chapter, everyone, and please please please review!

Disclaimer: Well... I own posters, pictures, and the books... does that count?

**It Ends Now**

Part 24: "Death"

The middle of December was just as cold and snowy as the beginning of the month had been, albeit the castle had gotten warmer as Dumbledore had activated a powerful warming spell that acted much like a couple hundred heaters. It was in this soothing atmosphere that Harry slouched on the couch yawning, casted and slinged arm hanging limply to his side. Covered by his school clothes, the bandages round his chest and upper stomach area were wrapped. However, the wounds they hid were considerably better looking, and as one Madam Pomfrey had commented, better enough that the bandages would soon be able to come off.

Harry was happy, and the prospect of more Occlumency practice later tonight was like a cherry on a delicious sundae. The day had been a good one, and the Boy-Who-Lived had even gotten all his homework done before two o'clock in the morning, for once.

The boy was interrupted from his watch of the fireplace's dancing flames by a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at Ron, who was beaming. Secretly, the red head cheered when Harry didn't flinch at his touch. Finally, the twitching and fear was subsiding, as Pomfrey had promised.

Harry was home now, he was safe, and the trauma of Voldemort's torture was finally, _finally_ leaving.

"What're you doing?"

"Contemplating the meaning of life," Harry wryily responded, rolling his eyes. "What does it look like?"

"It looks like you're majorly bored."

"Nah, actually, I'm enjoying my evening without homework!"

Ron sank down next to the plump, comfy armchair. "Speak for yourself."

"Where's Hermione?"

"Where else? The library, finishing her homework."

Harry made a non-committal noise, eyes moving back to the enticing flames as they licked the top of the fireplace. He sat like that for a little bit, before Ron broke the peaceful silence.

"Do you have Occlumency tonight?"

"Yes. But that's not for an hour."

Ron snorted. "And I suppose you're just going to stare into the fire for an hour?"

Harry made a face at him. "No, I just don't know what to do."

"Ah, so you _are_ bored!"

"Shut up," Harry sniffed, reminding even himself of Hermione when she was miffed.

"I know what you could do. You could talk to Remus on that mirror!" Ron exclaimed. Harry smiled at him and nodded. He hadn't had a nice conversation with Remus since the Hospital Wing, and it was always enjoyable to chat with him. The werewolf always brightened Harry's day with enticing stories of the Marauder's glorious days, when pranks and escaping detention were the highest of their worries.

"I think I will. See you, Ron!"

Ron just waved him away, then stole the boy's firelight chair.

Harry entered the deserted dormitory and immediately plopped onto the bed. He stared at the hangings for a moment, then rolled over and retrieved the aged mirror from his trunk. The seeker held the mirror close, breath fogging the glass and his reflection.

"Remus Lupin."

The reflection shimmered, to be replaced with the haggard and tired as ever Remus Lupin.

"Hello, Harry."

Harry rolled back onto his back and rested his head against the pillow, holding the mirror slightly above his head.

"Hi. I was bored and decided to talk to you. What's been going on?"

Remus' face was closely guarded. "Not much."

"What about with the Order? Surely you've been doing work for them. Are you still working amongst the werewolves?"

"Yes and no, Harry. I was doing it on a frequent level before, but it seems that the werewolves are not wavering. They do not want to be members of the Light, and they follow their leader's wishes. Voldemort may have already made an alliance with the head wolf. I've been trying to persuade those few who don't agree with Voldemort to join our side- those who became a werewolf by accident- but they are afraid. I don't think we will find hope among them," Remus explained, voice tight and tired, as if he'd been to hell and back in the space of a night.

"So, what else has the Order been doing, if the werewolf movement has failed?"

"What we always have done. Fight the Death Eaters, and try to uncover any plots or spies within our daily work... more precisely, in the Ministry."

Remus sighed as he said this, and his eyes grew dim. Harry noticed this with concern, and asked, "Remus, are you feeling alright?"

"Fine, Harry, just... a hard day."

"Was there a Death Eater seige?" Harry guessed, observing Remus' face as it went blank, like a mask. It was the face Snape always wore, and Harry knew Remus must be hiding something.

Remus pinched his lips together, as if reluctant to answer. However, Harry spoke before he could. "What's wrong?"

"What? Harry, nothing's wrong, of course!" the former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor firmly placated, but Harry was quick to admonish him.

"Yes, there is. You usually aren't so guarded. What's wrong?" he asked again. "Has something happened?"

"Harry, you know I-"

"Please, Remus! Don't give me the 'I can't tell you because you're too young' speech. This affects me too; I'm just as involved in the Order as its members are! Maybe more so because of my experience, and the prophecy. If something has happened, I _need_ to know."

"A-alright," the werewolf gave in, albeit with reluctancy all over his features. "But first of all, I don't want you to go and blame yourself in any way-"

"Why would I blame myself?"

Remus bit his lip and Harry could tell he was having an internal battle as to whether to disclose his knowledge to Harry or not. Harry began getting impatient and frustrated.

"Just tell me!"

"There was a Death Eater attack on Diagon Alley today," Remus said quickly, averting his eyes.

Harry raised a skeptical brow. "Why would I blame myself over that? The Death Eaters attack all the time now. Was... anyone hurt?"

Remus didn't say anything, but his sorrow-twisted face was more than enough confirmation for the Boy-Who-Lived.

"No... Remus?"

Harry felt cold dread filling his insides as he sat up, bringing the mirror close to his face. His eyes were fearful and knowing, and Remus regretted ever saying anything. But it was too late to stop now. Harry would find out eventually anyways.

"Harry, the Order has been very lucky up until now. We all knew... something like this would happen sooner or later. We knew, when we took the oath, that we were risking our lives just joining. But it was a choice we all made, and everyone was well aware of the consequences."

"Remus," Harry whimpered, so afraid of the answer as his mouth formed, "Who?"

"Hestia Jones and Dedalus Diggle."

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the coppery taste on his tongue and burning nausea away. In his mind, he recalled the faces of the two dead.

Dedalus Diggle, the happy-go-lucky, sometimes too enthusiastic wizard that had first shaken Harry's hand in the street back before Harry knew anything about magic or Hogwarts. Also the one who had so excitedly come to his uncle and aunt's house during fifth year summer. He was so innocent; so full of life.

He did not deserve to die.

Neither had Hestia Jones. The pink-cheeked, black-haired witch had also been part of the Advance Guard fifth year, and she had always been so nice to Harry. It was terrible that such a brave person had to die for this cause.

For his cause.

Remus saw the look Harry had on his face, recognizing it for what it was almost instantly. "You shouldn't blame yourself, Harry. I knew I shouldn't have told you."

"I would have found out anyway. And how can I not blame myself? The Death Eaters are killing on Voldemort's orders. And Voldemort is still alive because of _me_. I was too weak, too stupid to not try and kill him a couple weeks ago!"

"Stop that, Harry! It's _not _your fault Wormtail-"

"Wormtail!?"

A bit of color left Remus' cheeks and his ears turned red, almost collecting the hue as he muttered, "Damn."

"Remus, what does Wormtail have to do with this?"

Remus looked away from Harry and the screen, and at something the boy couldn't see.

"I didn't want to tell you, Harry, but now..." he sighed. "Wormtail killed Hestia and Dedalus."

Harry felt hot rage boil up and lick at his insides, like a caged fire consuming his bones. "Damn him!"

"I'm sorry."

"How could he... ARGH!" Harry struggled to speak as pure fury flooded him, making it hard to talk or even breath. Wormtail, the spineless rat, had killed again!

"I'm going to kill him," the seeker growled, but stopped when Remus' eyes went wide and alarmed.

"_No, _you_ aren't_! You are going to stay right there, Harry! Don't do something stupid you will regret later, please Harry..."

"I want to get rid of the rat! For good, so he can't kill anymore, like I should have done in third year!"

"So do I, Harry, but you don't see me running off on a bout of anger and with a half-formulated plan! Leave Death Eater hunting to us, Harry. The Order can track Wormtail down easier than you can, and are more prepared when it comes to dueling. Don't do anything brash," Remus warned.

Harry slumped against the pillows, finally deflating. He was suddenly very tired all of the sudden.

_This must be how Remus always feels,_ the boy thought sadly._ No wonder_.

"I won't. I'm just... in shock. And angry."

"We all are. But we knew as Order members that something like this was going to happen sooner or later."

Harry smiled wistfully. "Just not so soon."

Silence descended between the two, and Harry checked his watch. It was time to start heading to Dumbledore's.

"I have to go. Occlumency lesson."

"Take care, Harry. Practice hard. I'm always here to talk," Remus promised, before he cut the connection. Harry stuffed his trans-way mirror away, then headed off to the Headmaster's office.

oOo

"Come in, Harry," Albus Dumbledore's wizened voice called, before Harry even knocked. Said Chosen One pushed open the door and greeted a cordial but lacking, 'Good evening, sir' before moving into position.

The Headmaster smiled. "Eager to begin today, are we? Alright then. Legilimens!"

Harry held him off for a little bit, but only half-heartedly. His overloading mind just wasn't into it today, and it was still reeling from Remus' revelation.

After a second time of this, Dumbledore lowered his wand and gave Harry a searching sweep of his blue eyes.

"Your mind seems to be somewhere else tonight. Would you like to share?"

"I heard about... about what happened today," Harry broached. Dumbledore sighed and moved around his desk to sit down tiredly. Harry remained standing. He didn't feel he could sit right now.

"Yes, I assumed you'd find out. You always do." His voice was sad and old.

"Is it true? Wormtail did it?"

Harry needed the confirmation from the man in front of him. His word would make it final.

"I'm sorry. It's true, however much I wish it wasn't."

Harry clenched his teeth together and felt his hands unconsciously curl into fists... fists he very much wished he could pummel Wormtail with. His raw, angry magic made the spindly silver instruments rattle and tremble on their perches, but Harry didn't seem to notice.

"I _hate_ him," he growled in a whisper, voice scarily venomous and loathe-filled.

Dumbledore made no movement when he saw his possessions shaking, but replied calmly, "Hate is a very strong word, Harry."

"I can't help it! He's evil and deserves to die!"

"Does he? Does any person deserve such a price, even if they have done terrible things? It is not our place to say such things, dear boy. You are forgetting there is good in every human."

"And what about Voldemort? Are you saying he doesn't deserve such a price?"

"Voldemort is not even human anymore. His soul is in tatters; he cannot even comprehend what love is anymore. He has distanced himself from all semblance of good, and is so far gone from being called 'human'. He does not even have the ability to feel love or compassion," Dumbledore explained. "Wormtail, however, is a confused man lead on by a darkness too strong for him to fight. But he is still human; he still feels regret; doubt; sorrow. Even if he has forgotten love, it is not yet lost. You forget he still has a Wizard's Debt with you, and such a powerful bond is not erased until it is fufilled. Do not judge him yet; for you may find that one day, he will be your only hope in a terrible situation. He could even save your life, so I would not say such things without remembering that Peter Pedigrew is still a man, and men are famous for making mistakes... but also, fixing them."

Although Harry held much respect for the old wizard seated in front of him, he found he couldn't disagree more.

Because as the Headmaster talked, Harry silently grumbled on and on about how he wished he hadn't saved Peter's life that day... he wished he'd let the dementors have the rat, then all of this would never happened and Hestia and Dedalus would still be alive.

But fate doesn't work that way, and all wars are not without a price.

* * *

A/N: Thank you to all my reviewers, and it would be nice to get some more next time! 

THANK YOU TO:

**jayley: **Well, a little of both. Drama first, then some action :-) Thanks for reviewing and glad you liked the trauma!

**shannyauburn: **Thank you and I will be updating ASAP! Enjoy!

**Alicea: **Well, in this story, the wards went down because Harry left the Dursley property, AKA the protection wards. I was just thinking that if dementors could get to Harry away from the house, perhaps Voldemort could too. Of course, it probably wouldn't happen in the books, but hey, it makes for some good excitement! And thank you :-D

**TwilightsCalling: **I agree, I hate fics like that! Harry is just as human as us, so he isn't going to be Super-Harry and heal in a few days. Glad you liked that and I look foward to your emails and reviews!

**Haunted: **Harry's strong, and he hates the Hospital Wing :-D. Don't we all? Thanks so much!! Look foward to your PMs too.

**lilacBookstar:** Thanks! Glad you enjoyed that; I thought it would make for fun read and so it's not like he's Super-Harry or something. Thanks very much again and hope you enjoy!

Review, readers!

Yours truely,

**AngelMoon Girl**


	25. Yuletide: Part 1

Disclaimer: Once, I dreamed about Harry Potter! I was him and fighting Voldemort down by the bridge near my house. It was strange 'cuz when spells would hit me, things would go black... then Dumbledore came and he was going to save me but I woke up! Grr... Anyways, does THAT mean I own Harry Potter (at least in my dreams?)

A/N: I know, I know, I'm sorry for the wait! I was struck with writer's block over this fic for a while and it was really hard just sitting down and writing out this chapter. But I knew I'd held off for too long and decided to get out the beginning of this chapter right away, hence the shortness. But it's better than no updates at all! Thank you to **TwilightsCalling, jayley, lilacBookstar, Riker 15, kittyrunner, shannyauburn, Crazy-Physco, Cowabunga, **and** blackruby873. **

Also, I will be gone from July 18 to July 27 so will be unable to contact anyone or update until after.

**It Ends Now**

Part 25: "Yuletide: Part 1"

Professor Dumbledore's office was a very large one, but at the present moment Harry Potter just wasn't feeling the spaciousness. As he looked around at the seven other occupants other than himself, he rather felt that the room was closing in on them. Other than him, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny there were four adults- Dumbledore, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Remus... and he surmised, quite rightly, that the latter three were there for his protection.

Dumbledore picked up a colorful pot resting on the corner of his desk. He gazed into the delicate object for a moment with an almost pensive look, then awoke from his reverie and led the troop to his fireplace.

"We're about to lead you four through the Floo Network," the headmaster spoke to his students, giving them each a serious look in turn. "Arthur and Molly will travel first and await you on the other end. Remus will follow last should anything go wrong."

"Will anything?" Hermione asked, sounding as if she had something lodged in her throat. Harry wondered if it was fear.

"I am not expecting anything to, but it is better to be safe than sorry," Dumbledore replied, gravely inclining his head. "These are dangerous times, and even a simple mode of transportation can go awry and become fatal should one gain the access to tamper with it."

"You mean Voldemort," Harry clarified, and Dumbledore nodded to him.

"Exactly. But seeing as what happened to the Hogwarts Express the beginning of this year, I am not willing to risk sending you on the Knight Bus. And flying to the Burrow is out of the question; it's too far and too easily spotted," the old mage explained. "Flooing is our safest bet."

"Let's not talk about 'what ifs' right now, hmm?" Mrs. Weasley interrupted tersely and anxiously, wringing her hands. "Can we go now, Albus?"

"But of course." He held out the Floo powder to the two parents, giving it a gentle shake.

"I'll go first," Mr. Weasley proclaimed, giving his wife a wan smile and wishing to the children, "Stay safe." He ducked into the unlit fireplace and threw down the powder.

"THE BURROW!"

And he disappeared in a burst of emerald flame. Mrs. Weasley kissed each of the children on the forehead, reminding,

"Loud and clear, remember," before following her husband.

"Harry, you next," the oldest wizard in the room ordered, holding out the pot once more. Harry put his hand in and returned with a handful of the soft, sand-like powder just as Dumbledore tapped the boy's head with his wand. Harry felt an odd warmth spread through him and he shivered at the feeling.

"Did you Disillusion me, sir?"

"No. It was a weak tracking device should something happen. Barely traceable. Now hurry, before it wears off!"

Harry nodded and jumped into the fire-less hearth, ignoring the warmth still tickling at his insides. He threw down the Floo powder, shouting,

"THE BURROW!"

A blast of green overtook his vision and Harry was whisked nauseatingly along the Floo Network, praying he'd get to his destination. He knew how insecure the Floo could be, but Dumbledore's words of reassurance rang in his head and soothed him into near-calmness. If this method had Dumbledore's blessing, it had to be safe. But still, that did not completely stop the threads of doubt and fear clawing lightly at him...

The spinning stopped and the green flames spat Harry out onto a cold floor. He opened his eyes, adjusted his glasses, and looked up.

Back in Dumbledore's office, said wizard smiled and nodded. "He made it safely."

Everyone let out a relieved breath.

"Miss Weasley, kindly?"

oOo

Harry was pulled to his feet by Mrs. Weasley, but before he could even get his bearings the motherly old witch had enveloped him in a suffocating hug, sniffling in his ear.

"Harry, thank goodness you made it!"

"Yes, I'm here," Harry acknowledged lamely, awkwardly patting her on the back. He was totally rubbish with teary woman, even ones multiple times his age! A roaring sound reverbrated from behind him and the plump ginger-head mother released Harry as Ginny fell out of the fireplace. She grinned up at her mom cheekily.

"Hi, Mum!"

"Oh, for goodness sakes, Ginny," Mrs. Weasley scowled good-naturedly while rolling her eyes, nevertheless giving the girl a hand and hug. Hermione followed quickly behind and Ron shot out immediately after, landing with an "Oof!" on top of Hermione.

"RONALD! GET OFF ME!" the bushy haired pedantic wailed. "I can't breathe!"

"I'm not that fat," the ginger haired teen grumbled, straightening up and offering her a hand that she obstinately refused. The girl just pursed her lips with an air of indignance but made no smart retort. The fire rumbled one last time and ejaculated Remus, who stepped out gracefully while brushing off his shabby robes.

"Well, that went well," he smiled after giving his former students a quick eye-sweep and head count. "We're all here, safe and sound."

"All your stuff was sent ahead," Mrs. Weasley informed. "Everyone, upstairs and unpack, please! Then we'll all start on gingerbread men! This will be a Christmas none of you will forget."

She sent an especially sweet look to Hermione and Harry, whose insides glowed at the undescribable feeling of being loved that rose up within him.

oOo

The days passed by in a flurry of excitement like the snow that was steadily building up outdoors; a rush of joy and anticipation spreading throughout the house like a contagion. Christmas was quickly nearing and Harry revelled in the decorating, baking, preparing, and family time that filled up the first days of vacation- ones that were mercifully Voldemort-free. For the first time in a long while, Harry actually felt _safe_. Dumbledore had informed him of the wards that surrounded the Burrow, and how they'd been placed with the upmost protection available. Harry wasn't sure exactly how they worked, but his headmaster had hinted that it was related to the Weasley parents. Living so worry-free was a blessing for the seeker, and he found he didn't even need to prepare for Occlusion the night of Christmas Eve. His mind was already clear and not bogged down with worries, and fate seemed smiling down upon him as the Boy-Who-Lived had his first nightmare-lacking night in a long time.

oOo

THWACK!

Harry cried out as something whipped across his face, a hand flying up to his stinging nose. He opened bleary eyes to gaze reproachingly at one Ronald Weasley, green irises glaring daggers.

"That hurt!"

"Really? It was only a pillow," Ron chuckled, holding up the offending plush. "And here _I _was thinking that seekers had to be tough, especially if they started out as the youngest in a century!"

"Why you-!"

Harry couldn't come up with a suitable comeback so just resorted to grabbing his pillow and flinging it at the freckled keeper. He dodged skillfully.

"Ooh, missed!"

"How astute, Sherlock," Harry leered sarcastically, in the process of aiming another pillow at the boy's head.

"Sherlock? Is that supposed to be a witty comeback?" Ron laughed.

"Sherlock Holmes, you biggest dolt there ever was," a female voice answered exasperatedly. "Only perhaps the most well-known Muggle literary detective! Jeez, Ron, you need to read up on your Muggle Studies!"

Ron made a face at Hermione. "I don't need to know that rubbish! That's Dad's area of interest, not mine!"

"Like you don't need to know how to be quiet?" the brainy one of the trio grinned, hands on her hips. "The whole reason I came over here was to see what all the racket was."

"And now you know- I was merely helping our slowpoke friend wake up! You know how he is!"

"Yes, it's appalling to sleep in at Christmas," Hermione agreed, fixing Harry with a would-be serious glare. "My apologies, dear Ronald."

"Can the flirting, you two," Harry yawned, ignoring their flushes and looks of death that proclaimed definite revenge. He pulled on his dressing robe. "I just had the best night's sleep all year and you had to go and ruin it!"

Ron smirked. "It's the best mate's duty, Harry. 'Sides, did you want to miss the gift opening? Bet Ginny's already down there, drooling all over my presents..." He trailed off darkly, and Harry couldn't help but laugh as he wondered what Ron was fantasizing up in his head.

They paraded down into the living room noisily, greeted by the sight of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, the twins, Ginny, Charlie, and Bill. All of them were laughing, chatting, and sporting hot mugs of cocoa. They were framed under the Christmas tree erected yesterday, a traditional turn from all the other years Harry'd celebrated Christmas knowing he was a wizard. Usually presents were left at the end of one's bed, but not this year. Harry rather liked this new twist, though.

"There they are!" Mrs. Weasley warmly admonished. "We were beginning to wonder how long it would take you three!"

"Yes, the twins even graciously offered to wake you lot up," Ginny added evilly, and the two identicals on either side of her sent particularly unpleasant grins at the golden trio. Harry gulped, now glad that Ron had roused him so early- he didn't want to think about what methods the twins would've used to get him out of bed... and all of them he guessed included possible appendage disembowledge. Harry was already revelling in not having to take a potion nightly or have his arm in that bloody sling. He loved Pomfrey, but any time he wasn't in her company was a good time. Plus, he really didn't want to see her over Christmas on account of the Weasley twins. And Ron would probably have a field day if he did!

Shaking himself from these ludicrous thoughts, Harry took a moment to admire the tree. He'd seen many a Christmas tree in his lifetime, the Dursleys having had one every year, but never one so... homely... and unique! Along with the traditional garland, lights, ribbon, and angel were many little odds and ends.

Shifty looking gingerbread men made by little hands of so long ago.

Drawings and photographs surrounded by popcorn and sticky bits of tinsel showcased members of the family.

Handmade, magic-blown baubles.

All these crafts and more, creating a Weasley Christmas tree like no other. Harry could feel his eyes watering as he wondered what Lily and James' Christmas evergreen would've looked like. Had it been this familial and personal? Or had it been like the Dursleys, with meticulous, matching ornaments and garland that looked too perfect to be real?

"Harry? Are you alright?" a small voice asked from beside him, and Harry started when Ginny put a warm hand on his shoulder.

"Yah," he replied gruffly, then cleared his throat. "I'm... ah... fine."

"Shall we open the presents now?" Fred asked, eagerly rubbing his hands together. He cast a greedy look over the presents as if counting how many he had.

"No, Fred! The tradition!" his mother exclaimed, flinging out her hands hysterically. "You can't do anything yet!" Then she was off, rushing out of the room with mission clearly written all over her features.

"What? What tradition?"

"Mum gets so sentimental at Christmas," George sighed, shaking his head hopelessly. Fred nodded.

"You're quite right, dear brother."

"_Why_?" Harry pressed, inwardly sighing as they purposely avoided the question in a typically Fred and George idiosyncratic way.

Ginny winked as Ron groaned from nearby.

"You'll see. Just remember to duck out of the room when she gets too emotional and starts crying all over one of us."

* * *

A/N: To be continued in "Yuletide: Part 2", where we discover what the tradition is, members of the Order come to help the Weasleys celebrate Christmas and Harry receives a surprising and most unusual gift. Also filled with a bit of angst, and not from Harry for once :-D The chapter following that will delve into action once more. Will update soon and the more who review, the faster I update! However, keep in mind I will be gone for a while!

Review!

**AngelMoon Girl**


	26. Yuletide: Part 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related characters.

A/N: Gosh, it's been a while, dear readers... sorry! This school year has been very tough and I haven't had much time to start this chapter. What, did you think I'd abandoned it? Oh, what little faith :-D Thank you to all my reviewers: **moogoesthedog, Crazy Physco, shannyauburn, Cowabunga, TwilightsCalling, Bronze Wolf, blackruby873, theninja, jbf, Haunted, kittyrunner, heartproof, **and** iLoVeMoOnYnPaDfOoT.**

**It Ends Now**

Part 26: "Yuletide: Part 2"

Harry tried to muster up a pugnacious expression at their lack of loquaciousness, trying not to be similarly laconic as he demanded again,

"But _why_?"

His answer, however, came in the form of the returning Mrs. Weasley. He quickly scrutinized the tattered box tucked in her arms, looking as if it had seen its expiration date come and go many years prior. But that didn't stop the loving, reverent hold Mrs. Weasley bore it with, nor the glistening eyes as she stopped in front of the tree. She cleared her throat gruffly.

"Well, Ginny, why don't you go first?"

"Do I have to?" the red head whined, grimacing. The glare Mrs. Weasley bestowed on her daughter was response enough. Letting out a barely audible groan, Ginny slumped foward and reached into the box. Her hand came out clutching a tiny red bauble. It was a Christmas ornament, but upon closer inspection Harry realized there was more to it than that. Imprinted onto the tiny sphere was a little baby Ginny, wriggling her fingers out at the elder. The infant had a silly little grin on her face that mirrored Mrs. Weasley's. The matriarch of the family sniffed.

"Oh Ginny, you were such a lively, happy baby..." she reminisced, eyes distant and remembering another time. Ginny just rolled her eyes after turning away from her mother and hung up the ornament gently.

"Ron?"

Ron shot Harry an exasperated look and the seeker tried not to laugh as his friend took the next, maroon bauble. A baby miniature of Ron sucked his thumb on the glass. The twins let out a raucous,

"Oh, Ickle Ronnikins! Baby Ronnie-pooh! Sucking his thumb, bless his soul-"

"Remember when he did that all the time? And didn't go anywhere without his blankie?"

"And wet his bed?"

"And used a diaper?"

"And-"

"That's enough, Fred, George... you're next, you know," Mrs. Weasley frowned at them, ignoring Ron's fire engine face and grumbled expletive. He hurriedly hung the bauble and scuffled back over to Harry and Hermione.

"Well _I_ think you were very cute," Hermione told him, and Ron seemed speechless for a moment. He blinked at her owlishly, as if flabbergasted that she could even think that.

"Er... thanks, Hermione..." If possible, his ears grew darker.

The twins followed, then Mrs. Weasley paused. She visibly swallowed and cleared her throat a few times, and a tense silence followed.

"C-Charlie?"

Harry suddenly realized that she'd skipped over Percy. He frowned at his trainers, wishing he didn't have to see Mrs. Weasley break down. Dammit, why did Percy have to be such an arrogant and ambitious git! Didn't he know the pain it caused poor Mrs. Weasley? But the plump woman gathered her wits about her and seemed to quelm the emotions for her audience. With a shaking hand, she smiled a bit too wildly at her dragon-tamer son and passed off his ornament. Bill followed, then everyone seemed to gravitate toward the presents.

"Wait, everybody! We aren't done yet!"

"Eh, what?" Ron interrogated of his mother, clearly nonplussed.

"Mum, senility is nothing to be ashamed of," George soothed gravely, a hint of humor lurking behind the serious tone.

"I can assure you that you have only seven children; we aren't cloning anybody or anything- yet," Fred grinned. Mrs. Weasley pinned him with an irritable glance. She reached back into the box and pulled out an emerald green ball.

"Harry?"

Harry could feel his mouth drop open as he drifted foward dreamily, looking into his own face on the glass. The almost-reflection winked.

"You- you didn't have to- I mean, not for me... I'm not..." Harry stuttered hoarsely, feeling a lump overwhelm his throat. He reached up with trembling fingers to take the ornament from Mrs. Weasley, gazing down at it in wonder.

He'd never- not in all his life...

"Nonsense, Harry. You are just as much a member of this family as my children are. And Hermione as well. Come here, dear," she beckoned the pedantic, and Hermione came to Harry's left.

"Me?" she squeaked, going pale. Mrs. Weasley plopped a similar bauble into Hermione's slack grip. The bookworm turned it over and over in her hand, with a countenance Harry rather thought mirrored his own. But there was something hiding behind her features; some undecipherable emotion.

"Thank you," she whispered, and Harry repeated the gratitude. Mrs. Weasley let out a little sob and threw her arms around them both.

"Oh, I love you two so much! You're like part of the family," she choked shrilly, crying into their shoulders. Harry patted her on the back awkwardly. He felt Hermione stiffen beside him.

"I'm... I'm sorry, I have to go to the bathroom," his female friend murmured, untangling herself from Mrs. Weasley's embrace and rushing from the room. Harry caught Ginny observing Hermione's abrupt departure with a stealthy, knowing eye.

"Me too," she said, following in Hermione's wake. Harry suddenly realized that something was up, but didn't say anything. Mrs. Weasley continued sniffling, ushering Harry over to the tree.

"Right there, dear... next to Ron's- yes, that's it..."

"Erm, Mrs. Weasley, I... need to go the bathroom as well." Harry swirled around and wordlessly gestured to Ron that he should follow.

"What was that all about?" Ron asked after they exitted.

"No idea, but I think something's up with Hermione," Harry replied, peeking up the stairway. He could hear muffled sobbing from up above, and Ginny's voice murmuring something in an even lower tone. Ron looked pole-axed.

"What do you think-?"

"Let's go," Harry said, grabbing Ron's arm and dragging them up the stairs. He hesitated at Hermione's door where within issued the distressed sounds, then pushed it open. A disconcerting sight greeted his eyes.

Hermione was face down on the bed, face hiding in a pillow as her body rose and fell in time to her belabored crying. Ginny was perched next to her, rubbing the teen's back consolingly and muttering words of comfort. She looked up as the boys entered.

"Hermione?" Harry prompted gently. Hermione shot up, swiping at her puffy, wet eyes.

"H-Harry? R-Ron?"

"What's wrong?"

She gulped, screwing up her features as another crying session threatened to envelop her. "I'm s-s-sorry, it's stupid, really... it's just... my p-parents and I had a s-similar tradition, and this is the f-first Christmas that- that..."

"Understandable," Harry answered softly as Hermione started crying again, and Ron moved foward to hug her. "We'll leave you two alone now."

After they left the room, Ron turned to Harry. His eyes whispered of unspoken sorrow that Harry shared similar feelings of. "Poor 'Mione. Her first Christmas after her parents' death. It must be hard."

"I know how she must feel," Harry sighed, descending down the stairs. It was time to start opening presents. He hoped Ginny and Hermione would join soon.

oOo

The Weasley kitchen was not very big, but at the present moment it was crowded to the point of extreme. Pandemonium reigned, and it was hard to imagine that even more guests were expected for Christmas dinner. Already, half the Order was around the magically elongated table, and many others were out in the living room conversing. Harry recognized most of them, including Remus, Tonks, Mad-Eye, Mundungus, McGonagall, and more.

Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny were seated near the end together. All had varying expressions of disgust, amusement, and in Harry's case, embarassment on their faces.

"And then I says, I says -hic- 'Harry, you can't get a girl that way, you've got to _ask her_ on a date!' And then Harry... -hic- Harry -hic-... Harr...y..." Ron giggled (yes, giggled), glazed wide eyes staring around at them all with a inebriated air. He took another swig of butterbeer and laughed again, completely forgetting the track his sentence had been taking.

Harry, blushing terribly, tried to take the mug out of his already loose grip. "Ron... um, I think you've had enough butterbeer tonight," he reasoned.

"No," Ron slurred, then giggled. "No, no, I want a little more, Harry; just a little."

"He's been having 'a little' the past, what, six mugs now? Or was it seven?" Ginny wondered aloud dispassionately. Hermione scoffed, looking much better from earlier that morning. Only her slighly flushed cheeks gave any indication that she had spent almost half an hour crying.

"I lost count. Harry's right, Ron. You don't see us nursing our sixth or seventh butterbeer."

"But Herm-ninny," he whined, the arguement turned bland by his mispronunciation of the blonde's name. Hermione growled and snatched the mug right out of his hands. She went over to the sink and dumped the contents tastelessly down.

"Your dad didn't buy all that butterbeer just so you could hog it all," the girl sniffed. Ron hiccupped in protest.

Harry's attention was soon drawn past the throngs of people chatting around the table and into the hall. Professor Dumbledore was shrugging out of his winter cloak to reveal midnight-blue robes underneath, half moons dancing across the fabric. It was elaborately festive, and suited the occasion perfectly. Mr. Weasley was there receiving the cloak and greeting the headmaster cordially. Harry could just barely hear a snippet of their conversation because his professor's deep, rumbling voice carried.

"Thank you, Arthur. It was absolutely and delightfully dreadful out; a true Christmas storm. Why, even Severus," and to Harry's horror, Dumbledore whisked Snape out of the shadows cast by the contrasting darkness from the windows and light from the open rooms, "thought the weather was reason enough to suspend his arrival, but I _insisted_..."

And insist he must have, for Snape looked as if he had just smelled something particularly nasty. The usual sneer was even uglier than usual as the Potions Master cast a swift eye-sweep over all the giddy people. He radiated the distinct air of wanting to be anywhere but here.

Harry groaned, looking down into the plate of mince pie before him, half-eaten. _Great, what a way to ruin a party. Invite Snape and it all goes to hell_.

"Oh, Albus, welcome! We're already serving dinner; people have been arriving for the last few hours," Mrs. Weasley exclaimed amicably, appearing in the entrance hallway with a cheery visage.

"Not a problem, Molly. In fact, I would love a spot of brandy and some of your delicious mince pie, if you please," Dumbledore said, inclining his head. Mrs. Weasley beamed proudly.

"Severus?"

"Nothing," the dark-haired man sneered, eyes still roming. They caught on Harry's and the sixteen year old averted his vision again. He wondered what the potions brewer was thinking. The usually loathing look was... diminished, and the expression seemed more unreadable than hate-filled. Harry wondered if their latest escapade together had changed the latter's feelings. He knew he still disliked Snape, but couldn't help the gratitude that subsisted deep down. The man _had_ saved his life, after all.

"I'll get right on it," Mrs. Weasley said to Dumbledore. "Make yourself at home."

Dumbledore drifted into the kitchen while Snape disappeared somewhere into the living room, or so Harry presumed. Probably to skulk in some corner and pretend he was elsewhere, the boy decided. Oh, and one couldn't forget that he'd wear that 'I hate you with all my being' face as well. That was classic.

Dumbledore locked eyes with Harry and smiled. He came down to the end of the table. "Having a good holiday, Harry?"

"Yes, sir."

"Any visions? Nightmares?" he prodded gently.

"Not at all. I've been Occluding," Harry responded, trying to hide the satisfaction in his voice and be modest. It was hard; he couldn't help feeling smug at his progress that Snape had once said was unattainable.

"Well then, you must be doing very well. I'm proud," the old sage praised, blue orbs twinkling idiosyncratically. He patted Harry on the shoulder then went off into the living room.

Feeling full, Harry watched his friends socialize before deciding he'd help lone Mrs. Weasley prepare dinner as she shuffled around the tight space. Her wand was constantly moving as she directed the stew to broil and onions to slice themselves. Her other hand was slicing potatoes nimbly. He halted her frenzied chopping to inquire,

"Mrs. Weasley? Need any help?"

"No, dear, I- _ouch_!" She dropped the knife with a cry, spots of blood leaking from her cut. She grabbed a dishtowel and wrapped it around her finger to staunch the flow. Harry asked if he could do something for it.

"Thank you, Harry, you're very kind... but I can handle it." She unwrapped the towel and tossed it to the side, brandishing her wand. With a muttered incantation, the wound healed instantly, leaving her finger as unblemished as before. The motherly woman smiled at Harry. "One of the useful charms to know being a mother of seven- especially, of boys." Harry laughed, seeing her point.

"Are you sure you can't put me to work with something?"

Mrs. Weasley gave him an appraising look. "You really want to help that badly?"

Harry nodded.

"Alright. You can help chop the rest of the potatoes; I need to get Albus' mince pie and brandy to him."

oOo

Hours later, Harry tiredly climbed the staircase with Ron following sleepily behind. Guests were beginning to leave now, and it was very late. The heart-throb could just envision his warm bed beckoning to him, and was excited to wrap up in the blankets before falling into slumber. He opened the bedroom door and fully intended to just slide into bed, pajamas be damned, but something stopped him.

Literally.

It was sitting on his bed so innocently, but Harry couldn't for the life of him ever remember putting it there. He picked it up.

It was a very large book, black with silver lining and letters emblazoned across it. It had the feel of being newly bought. The title read: Shielding the Mind: A Practical Guide to Occlumency.

"What's that, 'Arry?" Ron murmured, yawning and still suffering the aftereffects of excessive butterbeer. Harry was greatly relieved that the side effects seemed to be wearing off slowly.

"I... dunno. It was just here. Sitting on my pillow."

Ron came around to stand beside Harry. He looked at the book pensively for a moment, then exclaimed,

"I think I know who it's from! Probably Dumbledore; maybe it's his Christmas gift to you!"

"But why wouldn't he just give it to me in person?" Harry countered, fingering the leather binding. It was stiff, another sign that this was an unopened and therefore new book. Ron shrugged.

"This is Dumbledore we're talking about, mate. Man's got his reasons, however mental they are."

"S'pose you're right. I'm going to go back down and thank him if he hasn't left yet," Harry informed, stumbling back downstairs. He peeked into the living room and saw his white bearded professor in the process of buttoning up his traveling cloak. The boy headed over to deter him from leaving before expressing his gratitude.

"Professor?"

"Harry?"

Said ebony-head grinned. "Thanks for the book, sir. It's going to be really useful-" He stopped as Dumbledore held up a hand, let his sentence trail away in confusion.

"While I thank you for your kindness, Harry, I am afraid you are bestowing your gratitude on the wrong peron."

"What?"

"It was not I that gave you that book."

"But then, who did?"

Dumbledore's eyes took on a mad twinkle.

"Professor Snape."

Harry could feel his mouth fall open in disbelief. The words didn't seem to be registering into his befuddled brain; Dumbledore _couldn't_ have just said _Professor Snape _of all people got him a present; he might as well have just proclaimed the world was flat for all the truth it contained!

"You're joking, sir."

Dumbledore gave a booming laugh. "I assure you, Harry- I would not jest about something like this. Now, if I am not mistaken, Professor Snape is just about to leave and is in the entrance hall. You may be able to catch him in time if you hurry, though."

The headmaster winked and Harry sprinted off.

Great, the second time he had to grovel to Snape in only a few short weeks... was the man doing this just to spite him? Did he glory in Harry's discomfort, knowing the Gryffindor couldn't help but be so noble?

Harry skidded into the small hall just before the door and caught Snape with his hand on the doorknob.

"Professor!"

Snape turned at his name, scowling as Harry marched up to him. He looked down at the sixteen year old with something akin to a grimace.

"What is it, Potter? I'm on a tight schedule, you know," he snapped, and Harry internally rolled his eyes. Right. What a load of bull; the man just wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. The impatiently ornery countenance was evidence enough of that.

"Professor Dumbledore said you gave this present to me," Harry stated, holding up the Occlumency book. By subtly placing Dumbledore in there, Snape couldn't possibly deny it. And deny he could not. The scowl grew even worse as Snape spluttered for words, finally settling on,

"Don't be ridiculous, boy. It's not a _present_," he spat the word out like it was a revolting swear. "It is to help you with your Occlumency, seeing as you were so abysmally useless at it last year."

Ouch. He couldn't ever admit to something kind without inserting an insult, could he? But Harry bit back the retort he'd love to fire in response, instead saying sincerely,

"Thank you, sir. I know it will help."

"It better," the Potions teacher growled, swishing around and swooping bat-like out into the snow without another word. Harry stood there for a moment, letting it all sink in, before slowly going up to bed.

It had been a Christmas worthy of remembrance. Harry wondered, remarkably without any sorrow, what Sirius would have thought about Snape giving him a present (there was no other way to put it; Snape could rebuff away all he wanted).

The Boy-Who-Lived laughed. Sirius would think he was off his rocker. That, or Snape. It was one or the other.

Harry wagered a bet that it was Snape.

* * *

A/N: Whew, that was a longer chapter than those previous! But I think everyone needed a little extra for the wait. Next chapter we dive into action! In the words of Snape, "Prepare yourself!"

The more who review, the faster I update!

**AngelMoon Girl**


	27. Danger

Disclaimer: Alas, Harry Potter has never been mine. So don't sue me, or I'll be forced to sic Snape on you!

A/N: Yes, yes, it's really me! Almost a year and a half later, I'm _finally _updating! Boy, I feel sheepish. This chapter has been way too long in coming, but I took a reprieve to focus on some of my other fics. Writer's block didn't aid me any either, and now that my high school career is finally winding to a close... well, I saw fit to start up this story again. Sorry if many of you find yourselves having to re-read this story to become reacquainted with it; it's sad, but I too had to do some refreshing so I wouldn't put in paradoxical stuff either. Having my own laptop now helps quite a bit :-) Well, on another note, I've been editing the early chapters. "It Ends Now" is under major renovation; I began this fanfic about four years ago and obviously, my writing style and capability has evolved. I cringe when noticing some of my rudimentary mistakes, so each chapter is getting a new face! I'm adding on quite a bit and tweaking the grammar. So far I'm on chapter 7, and hope to make my way all the way to chapter 26. Thank you all for sticking with me this long; now on to part 27!

Thank you to all of my faithful reviewers! I was reading through my feedback randomly today, and got the urge to pump out more "It Ends Now". It's because of _you_ that I become motivated to write! **Cowabunga, jayley, crazyme03, TwilightsCalling, kittyrunner, Lo0pster, Scorpia710, Crazy Physco, ., Element's Sole Protector, SeaBreeze2Ga, munchnzoey, ms belle, maggiechat, Jitz14,** and **10thWeasley.**

**It Ends Now**

Part 27: "Danger"

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Two days before the end of the Christmas holidays found Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny frolicking outside in the freshly fallen snow. The Burrow grounds had become very quiet the last week as one by one, the family parted its separate ways. Bill went back to Gringotts, and the company of Fleur Delacour (to Mrs. Weasley's distaste, her eldest's most recent love interest). Charlie, always the fidgety one, had flooed back to Romania for the beginning of January. He claimed the country treated his skin more favorably than Scotland, but everyone knew he just wanted to whet his appetite for all things dragon and dangerous. Plus, the weather there was more akin to that of summer and tanning. George and Fred, always the entrepreneurs, had skulked out around mid-afternoon yesterday, proclaiming loudly at how dull life had become at the Burrow. One could only lose to Ron in chess so many times, and their fingers itched to be creating again. The twins had told teary Mrs. Weasley that their shop was where they acquired most of their inspiration. Ron, of course, had to add in a whisper that Angelina had returned from Jamaica and was taking up her usual shifts in Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. Fred had blushed at that, and warned his younger sibling that their newest product out on the market was one that shrunk a man's privates to the size of a cricket for two days straight. Ron had chosen to shut up at that point, preferring not to look his snickering comrades in the face.

So now, it was just Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, their two youngest, Harry and Hermione taking up habitation in the little house. Nobody minded except for poor Mrs. Weasley; it meant more space for all- breathing room, Ron liked to call it.

"Wow, what a pretty day it is," Ginny commented, bending over and cupping some of the snowflakes into her faded red mittens. She blew them teasingly at Harry, and the seeker responded with a hastily crafted snowball flung her way. The fifteen year old squealed, dodging his alabaster bullet and returning fire with a few of her own. It wasn't long before Ron and Hermione got involved in the altercation, and everyone ran breathlessly around packing snow into spheres.

"Truce! Truce!" Hermione called, ducking behind a tree. Ron mirrored her, stepping behind yet another.

"We surrender!" he shouted to wherever Harry and Ginny gambolled, brushing the cold substance out of his hair. Ron glanced back into the little forest that subsisted in the Weasley backyard, gnawing on his lower lip nervously. "Ah, Hermione, maybe we should find another place to hide. There are some strange creatures living back here."

"No _way_," Hermione countered from the opposite tree, throwing him a skeptical eye roll as she peeked out. "You're just saying that because you're frightened some big ol' spider's going to fall on you."

"If only. There are things far worse than spiders in here, Hermione. This is an _enchanted_ forest, in the _Wizarding_ World. Fred and George have told me horror stories about stuff they've encountered in here, ever since I was little!"

"That's Fred and George."

"Still..."

"Okay, okay. But if we get pummeled the moment we step out-"

"GOTCHA!" Harry and Ginny's voices exclaimed, accompanied by vicious snowballs being hurled their way.

"Too late!" Ron called to Hermione, covering his face as the makeshift ball exploded against his countenance. The opposing pair collapsed into giggles, and Hermione came out from behind her hiding place.

"Didn't you two hear us? We called 'truce'!" the pedantic said, almost affronted. A hint of humor lurked behind her features, however, as she watched Ron trying to untangle his maroon scarf and shake out more snowflakes. He grimaced.

"Yeah, what she said... then I would've been spared this cold dousing! Aw, jeez; now I can feel it melting on my chest. _Thanks_, Gin; Harry," Ron sighed sardonically.

"You're welcome," Ginny replied, clapping her mittens to also rid herself of the lingering flakes. Harry grinned.

"Should've yelled louder, mate."

"In _that_ creepy forest? No way," Ron belied. "Who knows what would have woken up from hibernation?"

"Yes, Ron was just trying to scare me with similar stories," Hermione sniffed. "Personally, I don't think there's anything to worry about."

"Says _you_. Ever wondered where the gnomes come from? They don't just breed out of thin air! Mum thinks they have a home close by," Ron explained derisively, slightly annoyed at Hermione's lack of faith in him. "If you ever get dragged away by some night-stalking creature, don't say I didn't warn you."

A sudden loud crack ceased anymore bantering, and the quartet froze.

"W-what was that?" Ginny choked out, edging closer to the trio.

"Sounded like... apparition," Harry whispered, looking around intently for the source.

"No; couldn't be," Ron replied, eyes wide and frightened. "Dad told me Dumbledore set up anti-apparition wards around our property for the holidays. Said it was connected somehow to the temporary protection the Headmaster created. Man, oh man, you jinxed us Hermione! I bet you some raving, hairy, hungry-"

"Shut _up_, Ronald!" Hermione hissed. She and Harry seemed the lone two who weren't quivering, but then again, they also weren't the ones expecting Aragog himself to pop out of the forest. "Pull yourself together and keep your ears and eyes open."

Another reverberating crack, this time from out in the distance. It was muted; stifled almost. To Harry, the noise sounded like that of a tree being chopped down in one flawless swipe. "It's coming from the front yard. The Burrow is blocking me from seeing-"

"M-maybe we should go inside; tell Mum and Dad," Ginny suggested, clinging to Harry and Ron's sleeves. She was trembling from head to toe, and her brother was in no better condition.

"You're right," Harry concurred at last, when his perked ears picked up nothing else a minute later. It definitely wasn't their imagination, so perhaps there was some truth to what Ron was presaging. The forest did, after all, extend slightly into the front yard in a semi-circle around the house. No doubt some animal had been roused by the teenagers' fun, and in that case, safety lay inside the house. They all looked at each other and nodded, then began moving as one solid unit up to the back door of the Burrow.

Nobody got very far.

Another sound; this time like a rubber band being snapped back. The ground was rocked by a resonating tremor, and raw magic shimmered in the very air. The quartet felt their hair stick on end as the unknown power stung their skin like an electrical shock. Everyone collapsed when the ground continued shaking and swaying as if an earthquake was causing Ottery St. Catchpole to convulse. Harry recovered first, used to these situations and the "death or flight" intuition. Using skills he'd honed as a seeker, the sixteen year old staggered up and ran full speed up to the Burrow. He just _knew_ the third crack had originated from the front yard again, and this time, he intended to discover what it was. That had been no friendly aura he'd sensed...

Harry reached the house's siding, and inched his way along stealthily. A glance backward informed him that his friends were all fine; just slightly shocked. Hermione was in the process of pulling up Ginny while Ron watched Harry in askance. The one with the scarred forehead just shook his head at the ginger. Act first; questions later. Something in the pit of Harry's stomach told him that danger was very near, and he didn't relish in poking around debating the next course of action.

Harry took a deep breath, then peered just far enough around the side of the Burrow that he could see but still be mostly secreted.

The bad feeling in the pit of his stomach intensified, to the point where his intenstines must surely be in knots.

Danger, indeed.

* * *

A/N: Yay for suspense and excitement! Are you all perched at the ends of your seats? More action to come, as you can probably tell! The more who review, the faster I'll attempt to update! I certainly don't want to leave everyone hanging again... I'll try and keep the necessary waits to a minimum :-) I post quicker the more reviews I get, though! It motivates an author SO much!

Until next chapter,

**AngelMoon Girl**


	28. Protection

Disclaimer: Harry Potter never has and never will be mine. Life just sucks that way.

A/N: I'm back, and within a couple weeks this time, instead of nearly a year and a half! I want to thank everyone for all their supporting feedback and receiving me back with open arms: **crazyme03, 10thWeasley, Cowabunga, Valid User Name, WithaVengance, TwilightsCalling, BELLE,** and **Leenniepeennie.**

**It Ends Now**

Part 28: "Protection"

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_Another sound; this time like a rubber band being snapped back. The ground was rocked by a resonating tremor, and raw magic shimmered in the very air. The quartet felt their hair stick on end as the unknown power stung their skin like an electrical shock. Everyone collapsed when the ground continued shaking and swaying as if an earthquake was causing Ottery St. Catchpole to convulse. Harry recovered first, used to these situations and the "death or flight" intuition. Using skills he'd honed as a seeker, the sixteen year old staggered up and ran full speed up to the Burrow. He just knew the third crack had originated from the front yard again, and this time, he intended to discover what it was. That had been no friendly aura he'd sensed..._

_Harry reached the house's siding, and inched his way along stealthily. A glance backward informed him that his friends were all fine; just slightly shocked. Hermione was in the process of pulling up Ginny while Ron watched Harry in askance. The one with the scarred forehead just shook his head at the ginger. Act first; questions later. Something in the pit of Harry's stomach told him that danger was very near, and he didn't relish in poking around debating the next course of action._

_Harry took a deep breath, then peered just far enough around the side of the Burrow that he could see but still be mostly secreted._

_The bad feeling in the pit of his stomach intensified, to the point where his intenstines must surely be in knots._

_Danger, indeed._

A band of twenty or so Death Eaters was marching down the Weasley driveway, waving wands gleefully and beginning to cheer wildly as they caught sight of the house. Their handsome faces, all hidden behind partial masks, were eclipsed by feral grins.

To the well-practiced Order member, the odds would have been favorable; the attack, laughable. No Dark master accompanied them, and the number was not even a quarter of Voldemort's forces. They might even wonder why the Death Eaters were even trying.

But Harry was not doing anything of the sort, and he was not an Order member. He was one of four children, and his outlook was considerably grim.

The seeker propelled himself away from the siding with a mighty push, flying toward his shaken comrades. Ron was still sitting almost stupidly on the ground, but his brow cocked in query when Harry came hurtling back.

"Har-"

"Get up, get up!" Harry hissed, grabbing the red-head's arm and yanking the teen up. "Death Eaters, coming down your driveway!"

Hermione gasped, Ginny turned white, and Harry snarled in frustration.

"MOVE! _Now_!" he breathed harshly, dragging the other three- currently wallowing in a magnified state of shock- over to the forest. "They're on their way and they're going to see us if we don't hurry and hide..."

His words struck a chord in Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. With renewed haste and a laudable bounce back, the quartet rushed past the treeline. The afternoon was suddenly chillier than before- whether from their own fear or a temperature drop, no one was quite sure.

"A few feet in," Harry was saying as they dashed madly, ignoring the tentacle-like branches scraping at his skin during flight, "so we can see but be concealed at the same time..."

"There!" Hermione choked, pointing at an old oak sporting a large trunk. The four practically fell behind its brown body, but Harry cursed when noticing it didn't fully obscure Ron. He raked a hand through his shaggy raven locks, panting in a searing fashion, but Hermione calmed his apprehension with:

"Engorgio!"

The trunk expanded, becoming wide enough to secrete everyone. Only then could Harry breathe easily again.

"How do you think they got in?" Ginny whimpered, listening as the acclamations escalated. The Death Eaters must surely be at the house now, or close to it... The youngest Weasley slid down the tree, flagging legs seemingly unable to support her weight anymore. She buried her face in her knees. Harry, moved with pity and similar sentiment, knelt down next to her. "Wasn't there... protection against an invasion like this? Dumbledore had been reassuring us all along that nothing would happen; that we were safe and there'd be no way Voldemort could get in..."

No one said anything, because no one knew the answer. Harry felt a stab of irrational anger at his Headmaster. He knew the imminent ambush was not the senescent one's fault, but somehow the boy had always thought that when Dumbledore said things would go according to plan, they... well, _would_. This Death Eater breech was almost like a form of betrayal; a lapse in Dumbledore's warding abilities. If Voldemort could get past protection Albus Dumbledore himself had begot, he could break through _any_ magical resistance!

Hermione and Ron followed suit with Harry, crouching down. Hermione slipped an arm around Ginny's trembling shoulders, while Ron lent quiet support with an,

"It'll be okay."

"No it won't," Ginny countered harshly, a hint of tears to her tone.

"But we're hidden," Ron said reasonably, peeking out. He let out a strangled "Eep!" when Death Eaters began circling the house. Luckily, they paid no mind to the dark and threatening forest subsisting behind the Burrow. Most probably thought children like themselves would never _dare_ set forth into such a menacing woodland. Harry too squinted out, then returned his attention back to Ginny.

"Are you scared?" he asked softly.

Ginny shrugged and muttered, "Not for myself."

"Us?" Harry suggested in an equally gentle voice. His two best friends watched with awe as Harry was able to lure Ginny's head up. The girl sniffled. Her eyes were puffy, red, and brimming with unshed moisture. The sixteen year old seeker felt compassion and admiration burgeon in his chest for this brave little Gryffindor when she answered.

"No. For my parents. I'm terrified something will happen to them and I won't have been able to do anything. I... want to fight. But... I'm almost useless. Even last year in the Department of Mysteries I was nothing but a burden who wound up in the Hospital Wing."

"Of course not!" Harry retaliated in gainsay. "You were such a crucial asset! Without your smarts and hefty Reducto Curse, I would have never survived."

"Maybe," Ginny concurred reluctantly. "But my parents are still in the house, and we have no way to inform them-"

"They can fend for themselves," Hermione reassured this time. "I'm sure by now they've noticed what's going on and contacted the Order. We'll just have to wait out their arrival."

No one wanted to voice doubt, but Ginny supplied forebodingly,

"And if the Death Eaters storm the Burrow?"

"I'll bet you your parents are hiding just as we are. That, or they'll fight back. They really are good duelers, you know. I've seen them in action," Harry told the ginger. Still, he couldn't help the suffocating anxiety rising up within him as well. If the two Weasley parents were forced to battle twenty Death Eaters alone...

There was no doubt in Harry's mind that if that frightening picture came into fruition, Molly and Arthur would _not_ be alone. However much they'd abhor it, all four friends would join in the fray just to even the odds a little bit. No one wanted Ron and Ginny to not become orphans more than Harry. He knew all too well the loneliness; the jealousy and the pain that accompanied growing up without parental support. Harry looked over at Ron, staring at his sister with mirror emotions marring his features. His visage was detached, yet constricted at the same time. Harry formed a rock-hard desire right there, wishing with wroth fanaticism for a peaceful conclusion.

No matter what, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had to survive.

Hermione opened her mouth to say something else, but Harry shushed her. He had just seen the light of a wand flare into his vision. A Death Eater had separated himself from the pack and was now tracing the treeline, shining a spotlight into the forest.

"All clear, Macnair?" a ragged, burly baritone questioned the solitary minion. Macnair looked up, shouting back,

"Nothing in here, so far as I can tell! Potter and his cronies wouldn't dare stake out in a haunted Wizard Forest... that'd be a death flirt! No, they must be in the house, Rudolph."

"Good. All the more fun it'll be to tease them out," Rudolph Lestrange replied, a mad joy to parry his wife's underlining his intone. Ginny, from behind her hands, whimpered. Harry laid a hand securely against her arm, but brandished his wand. If the Death Eaters wanted a challenge, he would give them it. No harm could come to the Weasleys!

"Oh, God..." Hermione moaned, barely above a whisper. "Where is the Order?"

Harry had to agree, and toyed with the idea of sending a message to them himself. Only problem was, he knew the general idea of correspondence... and that was about it. Should he attempt to send Dumbledore a patronus, based on the possibility that Molly and Arthur were still unaware of the impending fight? Maybe it wouldn't even work, but a chance outweighed nothing, right?

"Hermione, what's a spell to distract the Death Eaters from seeing a light in the forest?"

"Harry, what-?"

"No time! Just please, pull their attention elsewhere, or guard my patronus from being seen!" Harry demanded, Expecto Patronum already on his lips. Hermione growled in frustration, and she too whipped out her wand.

"Lumos Obstructos Orbis Caligo!" the pedantic hissed, and a pall of darkness enshrouded the quartet. Harry shivered; he couldn't even see his own wand hand. If it weren't for the breathing of those around him, Harry would have questioned his own existence.

"Expecto Patronum!" the teen followed almost immediately after. Suddenly, a dim light morphed into a stag in the center of the homemade abyss. It served to illuminate Hermione, Ron, and Ginny's bodies, but gave the strange effect of them all cooped up under some black blanket. Harry froze when realizing Hermione's face was drenched in sweat.

"What did you do?" Harry asked, stag blinking in and out of life. He shoved some more concentration and power into making it corporeal.

"Just an extracurricular spell I learned from Charms, but Flitwick warned me about its advanced and long-term use. Zaps energy from you to support the spell," Hermione panted. Harry grew horrified as her visage paled. "Takes air molecules and-"

" 'Mione, we don't need to know the details!" Ron cried softly, apparently as terrified as Harry. "Save your breath, and Harry, whatever you're doing... hurry!"

"Right," Harry said. He turned to the transparent stag watching him interestedly. "Um, so, I need you to send a message to Professor Dumbledore, for the Order of the Phoenix. Can you... actually do that? Will you be able to find him?"

The patronus, to Harry's intense surprise, cocked its graceful head and then nodded once.

"How do I relay my information? Can you record it?"

Another nod.

"Alright... here it goes," Harry said, feeling just a little lame. "Professor Dumbledore, Death Eaters are attacking the Burrow and we need assistance immediately! Ron, Hermione, Ginny and I are hiding out in the forest but Mr. and Mrs. Weasley are still inside the house. Please send help right away!"

The stag stood there for a moment, eyes almost glowing. Harry wondered what it was waiting for, then added,

"That's it! Now please, hurry!"

The pearly creature bounded off out of the darkness, taking the route opposite where the Death Eaters were stationed. At the same time, Hermione's obstruction spell gave out and she collapsed against the tree.

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A/N: Sorry, I am soooo bad! The signature cliffhangers are back! We went a while without them, didn't we? -Evil grin- I can't help it! I love leaving everyone in suspense; it makes you want more and more and more... so my story's like a drug, ha ha! The more who review, the faster I'll attempt to update! More action to come...

**AngelMoon Girl**


	29. Burning Burrow

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter... but I do own this story! Yay for small delights!

A/N: I'm blown away by all the reviews! Nice to see some old and new names sending me feedback; it's awesome! I bet by now some of my old readers/reviewers have moved on, given the lengthy interval I had... -sniff- It consoles me to see some familiar faces return though! Thank you to all who helped hasten the coming of this chappy: **crazyme03, Madam Whitbrook, Leenniepeennie, Element's Sole Protector, 10thWeasley, TwilightsCalling, Valid User Name, foosel97, Cowabunga, Haunted, jimmy-barnes-13,** and **hi.**

**It Ends Now**

Part 29: "Burning Burrow"

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Ron and Harry simultaneously reached out for Hermione as she flagged, both fearing the worst. Fortunately, her eyes remained open and alert as she rested against the thick bark. Ginny compensated by scooping up a handful of snow and offering it to the elder female. Hermione chuckled weakly, melting the cold substance against her sweaty forehead.

"Just give me a minute, guys. I'll be fine in a sec-"

Harry waved wildly for her to shut up, listening intently as Macnair's jeering ultimatum pierced his eardrums. No doubt a little "Sonorous" was involved as the demand echoed around the yard. The quartet paled into complementing shades of white as he spoke.

"Harry Potter!" his baritone boomed. "You and your little friends have three seconds to get out of the house or it goes up in flames. Three..."

"One!" howled Rudolph Lestrange triumphantly, stabbing his wand in the direction of the Burrow. "INCENDIO!"

"Lestrange, you idiot!" barked Macnair in admonishment. "You didn't give them any time-"

"What difference does it make?" Lestrange sneered, watching with pleasure as flames burgeoned and started licking all four corners of the house. "The Dark Lord wants him dead. We're just aiding the process along-"

"THE DARK LORD WANTS POTTER'S DEATH TO BE DONE BY _HIS _HAND!" Macnair bellowed, turning his wand threateningly on the mad husband of Bellatrix. An argument ensued between the two Death Eaters, but all the while the fire crept higher and higher up the siding. The hidden four felt their hearts plummet as the house they loved so dearly began slowly crumbling and bursting at the sheer heat. Hermione and Ginny had let out muffled screams while Ron froze like an icicle, expression horror-struck. Harry, on the other hand, was hyperventilating in a belligerent bid for oxygen. He grappled at his chest, kneading it...

And was surprised to feel something cold and hard dig into his skin.

What the-?

And then revelation dawned, and Harry cursed his own stupidity.

_The protering_! How could he have forgotten this crucial- and altogether more reliable- method of communicating with Dumbledore?

Harry fumbled around for the metal ring, yanking it out impatiently by the string. He squeezed the spherical object, then hissed, "Protering Activate!" Ron glanced over at Harry, countenance glazed and milky.

"Help is on the way," Harry soothed shakily, but he could not help shivering at the sight of the Burrow burning. If the Order did not come- if he did not do something soon- the house of the Weasleys' childhood would be forever lost.

And then, another concern, far greater than the first:

"Oh, my God... my parents haven't come out yet!" Ginny sobbed, eyes avidly searching for the couple from which she was birthed. Harry's breath caught again, and his mind reeled dizzily.

_That's_ it_... I'm not going to lose them too... Ron and Ginny deserve a happy future..._

Harry made to dart out from behind the swollen tree trunk, wand raised and ready, but Hermione grabbed his cloak. The sixteen year old tripped and pitched forward onto snowy ground.

"Harry, _no_!" the bushy-haired pedantic cried, frightened features illuminated orange by the inferno. "Stay here; the Order is coming, you said so yourself-"

"Hermione, don't you understand? I'm clueless how to contact the Order; I'm not a member! My information is second-hand! Don't trust my reassurances; they're all speculation!" Harry pled desperately, trying to untangle himself from her.

"But Harry-"

"Let me go! If they're not here now, they're not coming at all!"

Hermione refused to relinquish her grip, and Harry lashed out, "_Do you want Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to _die?"

With a strange little half-cough, half-wail, Hermione released his heavy outer covering. Harry felt remorse gnaw the pit of his stomach, but other than acknowledge its existence, the boy did nothing else. He took a couple cautious steps forward, leaving the tree's protection completely. Suddenly, Harry felt bare and unconcealed... All his senses were suddenly on acute and he focused entirely on his mission:

Getting the Weasley parents out and if he was lucky, the fire as well.

While fighting off a dozen or so Death Eaters.

Suicidal? Perhaps. But he could not- _would not- _stand by and watch as two people he loved were burned to death. It went against everything he believed in; fought for... all that forged his nature; all that was _Harry_.

So to hell with his own life.

But apparently, the trio behind him had roughly the same idea.

"You're not going alone, Harry," Ron said determinedly as he appeared on the raven-head's right, a steely edge to his tone as he drew his wand. The females snuck up on Harry's left, and the aforementioned seeker groaned.

"Guys, _no_- go back- it's too dangerous!"

"For once in your life, Harry, _shut up_ and let other people shoulder some of your responsibilities," Ron retorted, but no menace penetrated his voice. Pure, unmasked honesty leaked out of his words. "Why don't _you_ go hide for once, and let us fight?"

"_What_? Ron, are you serious? You know I couldn't possibly-"

"I'm quite serious, mate," the red-head drawled. "Seems unreasonable, right? Well, now you've had a taste of life in _our_ shoes. It's not fair, huh? Constantly being told we should run and save ourselves... well, what if we simply don't want to? What if we want to protect our best friend so _he_ can survive as well? We're capable of fighting, Harry. We don't want to lose you just as much as you don't want to lose us."

Harry saw the truth in his best friend's reasoning, but that didn't make his acceptance any easier.

"Fine," he concurred reluctantly. "I suppose with all four of us there's a better chance of taking down more Death Eaters."

"That's the spirit," Ginny chuckled, but no merriment danced in her hollow orbs. The light of the fire still played off the youngest Weasley's hair, making the auburn stand out. She nodded at Harry, and with resolve in their footsteps the Gryffindors stealthed up to face their opponents.

Unfortunately, the odds of winning their sabotage decreased rapidly when a new person entered the scene.

Harry yelped in surprise, hand arching for his scar even as Lord Voldemort came thundering toward the Burrow. With almost no thought involved, Harry and his posse threw themselves onto the ground and prayed to whatever fates that be for enough tree coverage. Unfortunately, they were now trapped just before the treeline, with the barest of icy brush and young trees to secrete their prostrate forms. Fortunately, the Dark Lord seemed very distracted by his celebrating Death Eaters and was not interested in the hallows of a Wizard Forest. He was more keen on shouting bloody murder at them, and gesturing wildly at the blaze enveloping the Burrow.

"WHAT IS THIS!?" he roared, and Harry felt shivers race up and down his spine. He bit down hard on his lip, ignoring the hot blood dribbling down his chin as a result. The pain in his scar was crescendoing in mimic of Voldemort's fury, but he was afraid his nemesis would pick up on the slightest sound. The snake-like man was so close to the woods, and his cower-inducing stalk only served to bring Voldemort into greater propinquity with the quivering quartet. Harry was positive that at any moment, Voldemort would look over and catch sight of a black cloak, and after further peering inspection discover he and his friends. The seeker squeezed his protering again, fearful of speaking the spell a second time. Sensitive ears were too near...

_Help me, Dumbledore! Why aren't you here? Where's the Order?_

"WHAT. THE. HELL. IS. THIS!?" Lord Voldemort screeched again. If the situation were different, Harry might have laughed aloud. The most feared Dark Wizard was currently channeling a petulant child. He seemed ready for a good foot-stomp followed by a tantrum. But, the snow was cold on Harry's face and arms, and the glow of his favorite home became brighter than ever as the fire rose. There was still no sign of life from within.

"We thought-" Lestrange began, but with a slash of his wand Voldemort had the Death Eater screaming. The ebony-headed minion writhed and jerked on the ground under the full weight of a Cruciatus.

"I DID NOT SANCTION THIS ATTACK! _Hold your tongue_! I have half a mind to kill you now, blithering fool!"

"M-m-my Lord," Macnair stuttered, falling to his knees when Voldemort whirled terrifyingly on him. "W-we only received knowledge of how to breech the wards a short time ago, and we thought you'd surely approve an attack if it meant capturing Harry Potter-"

"And where _is _the boy, Macnair?" Voldemort sneered, forcing his newest prey into Cruciatus. "Tell me, you worthless idiot! Because I don't see him around... do you? You _know_ Potter is mine, and yet you completely disregard an order and attempt to _burn him to death_ inside a house!"

Macnair was left gasping for air on the ground, and Voldemort pivoted to gaze contemplatively at the Burrow. He fingered his lip, tracing it. "Imbecilic though you are, this is a treat and potentially a prized triumph. This renewing fire could mean a shifting tide in the war. If Harry Potter is out of the way..."

"Now you see our perspective-" Lestrange butted in with relief, but was severely silenced with another Cruciatus.

"Shut up, Rudolph. I said it was a _treat_. That does not mean your insubordination will go unpunished."

A collective tremor pulsed its way through the Death Eater throng.

"Harry," Hermione choked almost inaudibly. Harry twitched his head to the side, raising an eyebrow. Hermione jerked her head backward, wordlessly gesturing to something in the woods. Harry moved ever-so-slightly to provide vision back into the forest. What he saw was a very strange sight indeed.

A silver phoenix- transparent and dignified- was hopping around next to the tree the Gryffindors had previously found safety behind. If it was possible for a ghostly spector to look confused, then the phoenix was most definitely obfuscated. It opened its mouth to let out a shrill and irritated call-

"Pst!" Harry hissed, a bolt of fear rebounding down his body. Luckily, the bird didn't make a noise and instead glided seamlessly over to the dorsicumbent friends. Voldemort remained cackling at the Burrow, eyes focused in the opposite direction. Chancing it, Harry asked,

"What... who are you? Are you... Professor Dumbledore's?"

The phoenix opened its beak.

Hopefully the fire caused enough distracting sound as it cackled and undulated toward the sky, because Dumbledore's "reassuring" message did nothing to bolster Harry's anxiety. It sounded too loud to his ears.

"**Stay where you are. Help is coming, but we're stuck behind various counter-enchantments**."

So that was why the Order was taking longer than usual...

The patronus dissipated, but when Harry looked back to the Burrow his blood froze.

Voldemort was staring directly at him, an exultant grin marring his serpentine features. The expression on his visage was pure delight. One benighted Muggle might even assume Christmas had made a come-back. The crimson-eyed villain pointed his wand at the group- all inwardly swearing in a fit of terror and frustration- and chanted a spell almost cheerily.

"Incarcerous!"

Instantly, ropes shot up from the ground and wound themselves around Harry and his companions. Lurched unpleasantly upward and subsequently slammed into a tree, the Gryffindors found themselves pinned together. Movement was quite limited; Harry couldn't have itched his nose even if he wanted to. The boy growled at Voldemort, now sauntering toward them with glee in his step and the promise of pain painted across his countenance.

* * *

A/N: Heh heh, MORE cliffhangers! I _dare _you to come hunt me down! But... if all you axe-wielding reviewers kill me, there'll be no conclusion... hmm, that's quite a conundrum, isn't it? The more who review, the faster I'll attempt to update!

**AngelMoon Girl**


	30. Stalemate

Disclaimer: Noooooooo, don't send me to a shrink! I swear, I'll stop telling people Harry Potter belongs to me! It's all JKR! And if I say I am bipolar and claim to channel her as my other personality... well, that's just hogwash! Don't believe a single false word falling from my mouth!

A/N: Thank you reviewers! It means so much to have your support; without it I don't know how I'd get through this fic alive! Enjoy the length :-) **foosel97, jimmy-barnes-13, crazyme03, Cowabunga, MCross, 10thWeasley, TwilightsCalling, Valid User Name, Haunted, jessie, FlamingThunder, silvia8917, Jitz14,** and **LillyRose95.**

**It Ends Now**

Part 30: "Stalemate"

* * *

"Harry, Harry, Harry," Voldemort crooned, his visage close to euphoria. He hissed his pleasure out with a crooked smile, savoring out each word in a wont similar to one Severus Snape. He took a few steps closer toward the bound quartet. Harry grimaced, attempting to slide his wand away from his archenemy's prying eyes. The stick might prove to be his only hope if by some miracle, the Dark Lord freed him from the rope's tight embrace. "I should have known... you aren't one to stay inside when others are in danger, are you, boy?"

Harry just gritted his teeth together, praying that in grinding his mouth into silence, Voldemort would be distracted enough by his own monologue that he forgot about the Boy-Who-Lived's friends.

It seemed this would only be wishful thinking on Harry's part. Voldemort cocked his head, incarnadine eyes roving slowly as they took in the varying expressions of Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. Harry felt like kicking himself for allowing them to leave the safety of the woods, but there was no turning back now. He just prayed Voldemort drew this out long enough that the Order had time to fight past the wards before anyone was seriously injured- or worse.

_Don't think about that_! Harry chided himself. _I must keep his attention on me; anything to save them..._

The annoying voice in the back of the seeker's head heralded the stupidity of this noble intention. If Hermione'd heard him, she would've launched into a full scale rant similar to the one just before their escapade to the Ministry. As it was, Harry could feel the tremors racing across against his pedantic friend's arm. He wished he could somehow reassure her- reassure _all _of them- that it was going to be okay. A quick glance to his right and left informed Harry that Ron and Hermione were ashen and frightened, but trying to be courageous as well. Ginny... well, she was behind the trunk, out of the scarred teen's vision... but she'd faced Riddle before. Hopefully her brief experience as a possessed minion for their nemesis- Harry inwardly growled when recalling poor Ginny lying half-dead on the Chamber floor- would grant her a certain sense of bravery too. If worst came to worst, they would all be locked into a duel with this monster sneering before them... and then maybe DA skills they'd honed the past year would take over from that point...

That was the most Harry dared to hope for. He slammed his lips shut as Voldemort chose this moment to stalk up to him.

"_You _may think danger is relative... but I know you well enough, Potter, to realize your greatest weakness," the Dark Lord said quietly; contemplatively, almost. He spared another second to gaze balefully at the sixteen year old's comrades. A most evil smirk dawned upon Voldemort's pale complexion. "Their pain... hurts you more than your own... to see them writhe is to plunge a dagger into your _loving_ heart, letting the wound fester and fester..."

Harry felt anger flare up white-hot in his stomach, clawing to be free. He decided to satiate the beast with a spit in Voldemort's direction. _Don't you dare touch my friends!_

Voldemort snarled, countenance twisting into pure, unadulterated hate. He swiped at the phlegm marring his serpentine face. "You _dare_-"

"I dare, Tom!" Harry shouted, not quite able to see past a similar fury pulsing through his own system yet. _Distract him. Distract him_. _C'mon, Tom, take the bait!_ "I dare because I'm not afraid of you and your cowering little servants! I dare because you're nothing but a power hungry _half-blood_, pretending to be something he's not! I've faced you before- and _thwarted_ you! I can do it again!"

There. Hopefully that was enough to initiate a response. And so it was.

Voldemort let out an inarticulate roar of rage, blinded by wrothful fanaticism. Dark power seemed to leak in visible waves from his very pores, and Harry gulped. _Way to sign your own death sentence, Potter... _This was like when Dumbledore got furious, only then there was no threat that you'd soon be chopped, disemboweled, and then burned alive.

"You think I'm _weak_, Potter? You think _you_ can defeat _me_, the greatest wizard of the age-"

"_Dumbledore_-"

"Is an old codger who will soon meet his horrific demise! You are a _child_, Harry Potter! A child who has survived merely on the whims of his elders, who are bewitched enough by your fame that they do not fear to step in front of killing curses for you! Dumbledore is a _fool _to believe in the so-called 'power of love'... it's just you and me now, boy! No Dumbledore, no Mummy, and no _mangy mutt_!"

Harry saw red. Unfortunately, this inattention was his downfall. The ropes slid from around the Boy-Who-Lived's body, and before he could even bat an eyelid, Voldemort had Harry jerking around screaming under the Cruciatus Curse. Something kept him from truly hollering, though, and that was the distant pleading of his friends. In a sudden welling of defiance, Harry clamped his mouth shut. Voldemort _would_ _not_ get satisfaction out of him!

The excruciating agony fled when Voldemort flicked up his wand. Harry lay panting on the ground. "Ohh, poor baby Harry," Tom Riddle crooned, sounding disgustingly like Bellatrix Lestrange. "How touching. Trying to belie me?"

The snow felt cold against the boy's face as he dug his head into it, moaning when his scar- having been throbbing for the past ten minutes since Voldemort's arrival- gave a particularly vicious spike. The frozen moisture seemed to ease a bit of the fire on his forehead, and served to quelch his sweat. Voldemort leered down at him, chuckling at what he observed as weakness.

"You're pathetic, Potter."

Voldemort swivelled quickly, pointing his wand suddenly at the trio still tied to the tree. "I wonder how long the littlest can withstand torture before she cracks?"

"NO!"

"Crucio!"

Ginny, previously paralyzed against the great oak, began twitching and howling. Harry could see Ron struggling with murder etched in his eyes, shouting obscenities at the cackling Riddle. Hermione had taken the hysterical route, sobbing for mercy as tears poured down her face.

"Stop! Please, stop!" she was pleading, choking on her own sorrow. Harry threw himself up, ignoring the feeling of his body groaning and creaking in protest. He whipped his wand out, surprising Voldemort with a "Stupefy!"

It was useless, but at least the spell took Voldemort's concentration off of Ginny and into parrying the curse. Aforementioned red-head sagged against her bonds, either unaware or ignoring the older two's whispered concern. White-lipped and growling, the snake-like man arched his wand and watched as Harry's red jet of light rebounded back at its caster. Harry lunged to the side, but not before letting loose a volley of new spells.

"Expelliarmus! Reducto! Stupefy! Impedimenta! Diffindo!"

Voldemort blocked all but the last. A spray of crimson rent the air, originating from the sudden slice to his shoulder. The Dark Lord hissed, narrowing his eyes while Harry gaped.

_He'd done it! He'd hit Voldemort, and drawn blood_! Strange... for all his abnormality and monstrosities, the man still bled red. Harry was half expecting some alien hue, like green or something. The successful Severing Charm was forgotten when more yelling ensconced the air, wavering Harry's resolve in the breath of hesitation.

What-?

And then he realized. The Order!

"Aqua Erupto!" someone was bellowing, accompanied by new cries of "Aguamenti!" There was the sound of rushing water as the Burrow fire began to abate slightly. The noise eclipsed that of a bigger battle taking place in the front yard. The Death Eaters in the back raced around to join their fellows, leaving Voldemort alone with the quartet. Harry felt very uneasy, knowing that Dumbledore and the Order still thought him and his friends in hiding. They probably had no idea that Lord Voldemort himself had come to command his ranks.

Or was he?

The wizard's dissatisfaction earlier made it sound like the attack had been ill-planned and a surprise even to the Death Eaters' leader... of course, with Harry in his clutches, Voldemort had seemed to be more forgiving of the unexpected assault...

But there was no time to sort out this conundrum right now.

Voldemort sent Harry dancing to avoid another round of curses, and this time Harry was on the receiving end of an assailment. Luckily, his prodigious coordination as a seeker kept him in better shape than Voldemort, and he suffered little more than a simple bout of exhaustion.

"I tire of this, Potter! I did not ask to be playing games all day! _Avada Kedavra_!"

It had to be some lucky streak of fate that he tripped right at that moment, the viridian death jet flying harmlessly over his black head. The breath all but bolted from Harry's lungs as he realized how close he'd come to dying, and that his time was surely up.

"Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedavra!"

How much longer could he keep up this dodge-and-roll routine? Voldemort was in no mood to stop using his favorite weapon. Harry gasped in near hyperventilation as green exploded right in front of his glasses. Winded and wincing at the sudden implosion of snow, dirt and rock, Harry failed to move hastily enough. Through the grime of his spectacles, he watched the Dark Lord raise the brother wand. Harry's own now lay unhelpfully beside him, torn from his grip during the magical eruption. No _Priori Incantatem_ today...

"_Avada Kedavra_!" Voldemort shouted triumphantly, aim true this time. Harry squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the release that would send his soul up to Sirius, ignoring the shrieking din his companions were making. He just wished they would be spared this fate...

The blow never came. Harry opened his eyes, observing in awe the tree- a _tree_!- that had suddenly popped up in front of him. The wood was blown to smithereens, and Voldemort ducked while chanting "Protego!" to shield himself from the debris. For one wild moment Harry thought Ron had been right about the Wizard Forest being cognizant and alive in some way, but then he saw Professor Dumbledore running down the incline toward them. With the orange glow of the Burrow behind him and his silver beard billowing out madly in the wind, the mage looked empyreal.

"HARRY, RUN!" he shouted. The Headmaster's wand was already blurred with the intensity of the spells the old man was firing. Voldemort was hard-pressed to match him, already tired at the effort dueling Harry had cost him. The Dark Wizard clutched at his wounded arm, and Harry realized as he was picking himself up off a snow drift that the cutting curse had homed in deep. The blood was pooling in little patches on the virgin flakes, a testament to the pain Voldemort must be in. Harry felt like congratulating himself with a pat on the back. He grinned, strength returning like a drug-induced stimulant. For once, would he be able to forgo the Hospital Wing ritual that seemed to follow every altercation?

Then happiness melted in Harry as soon as it came. One look at his friends informed the teen that at least one member of their group would need medical attention. Ginny was now unconscious, her limp figure draped awkwardly over the rope. Harry fought to remember how long she'd been under the Cruciatus. Ron was frantically bumping up against her with his shoulder, trying ineffectually to rouse his sister.

"Ginny? Ginny!"

Harry sprinted over to the three, intending to slice their bonds. He failed to notice how Dumbledore was currently locked in a duel with a large ebony snake Voldemort had coaxed out of his wand; it was like the Atrium skirmish all over again- the two most powerful wizards in the world caught in stalemate. His headmaster conjured a flaming phoenix from out of the Burrow's fire, and the celestial bird lunged to swallow the basilisk-like creature. Then the old man turned, fully intending to face another barrage, when he saw that Voldemort was once again focusing in on Harry. This time, the boy had no idea what was coming.

Another Avada Kedavra, speeding toward the back of Harry's head...

Ron screamed "Duck!" just as Albus Dumbledore roared Harry's name in rare fear.

The teen threw himself into the snow, covering his head with his hands and not quite sure why. It wasn't like that would protect him or anything...

Another tree was blasted away, and Harry jumped when flecks of wood almost impaled his fingers. Oh right. That was why. He grunted in pain, droplets of blood staining the snow in profuse amounts from his hands. Dammit, there went his dream of a Madam Pomfrey-less aftermath! Harry felt another careening killing curse go over his prone body, misdirected by a mile because Dumbledore had started ravaging the Dark Lord with more offensive magic, some spells as strange as tickling charms and gum enhancers. It dawned on Harry that the mage was probably buying time for Harry to save his friends and get them the hell out of here.

"Diffindo!" Harry shouted for the second time that afternoon. The rope slid to the ground, and so did Ginny. Ron lunged to catch her, shaking under the girl's dead weight. His legs felt like jelly after being held captive and immobile for such an interminable time. Hermione was no better, but she grappled with the younger female too until Ginny's arms were draped over each of their respective shoulders.

"We've got to get around front and find someone who can make a portkey to get us away," Harry said, pulling them upright. "Dumbledore's keeping Voldemort occupied, but I don't know how long it'll last." Ron and Hermione, faces pinched, began dragging Ginny along with Harry in the lead. He began trudging through the forest brush, winding in a maze-like fashion so they were always behind a tree or some other natural protection. A few stray curses rocketed into the woodland after them, but glanced harmlessly off steady, ancient oaks. They were almost to the border between the front yard (where carnage seemed to be far less... it looked like the Order was winning, and a few Death Eaters had met their end) and the backyard (Voldemort and Dumbledore were still in view, and still engaged in serious dueling) when Harry's scar split open.

He dropped to all fours, whimpering and rocking, fingers kneading at the inflamed mark.

_"Come to me."_

There was a pull like that of a portkey, but it centered not on Harry's navel. No, this tug had deemed Harry's legs were more fit for the yanking. With no control over his body, Harry felt the force slowly haul him off to Voldemort. He scrambled for leverage, but the snow slipped easily from this desperate appendages. Ron and Hermione dropped Ginny, diving for Harry and grabbing at his arms.

"Harry-" Hermione gasped.

"What's wrong? What's happening?" Ron ground out, perspiration shining on his forehead as the pair tried to keep Harry from being wrenched away. The teen was kicking at some invisible hand; one that was vying for full power of the Boy-Who-Lived's mobility.

"Voldemort-" Harry coughed, feeling the force grow more insistent. The pull became rougher; harder to overcome. He could sense Ron and Hermione's grips on him sliding. "Pulling- to him- can't fight- take Ginny-"

And then there was an almighty ripping sound, Harry gasped, and Ron and Hermione could no longer hold him. Harry felt his body ruthlessly transported back to Voldemort, jacket soaked to the spine of his back. His ankle was aching fit to burst, and he hazarded a guess that if it was not broken, it was surely sprained. Yep, most definitely a Pomfrey trip was going to be in order. When he came to a halt, no more than feet away from Voldemort's boots, Harry knew this was it.

He hadn't counted on Dumbledore though, and for that, the sixteen year old was grateful. Dumbledore performed the same sort of Accio on Harry that Voldemort had, though this time the journey was thankfully more gentle. The boy grimaced, ornery despite the situation. _This better not turn into _tug-of-war-the-Harry. He found himself now staring at the back hem of Dumbledore's robes, resplendently purple and very much out of place in the snowy landscape.

"It's over, Tom. You cannot win this battle tonight. My Order has already killed quite a few of your Death Eaters and the rest are retreating as we speak," the Headmaster entreated calmly, his tone more akin to that of one discussing the weather rather than a stalemate. Voldemort's countenance warped, folding in on itself like the evil wizard was in immense agony.

_"To me, Potter!" _Harry heard in his pounding head, once more feeling a pull on his feet. He cried out and Dumbledore, from his protective stance in front of Harry, threw a Bludgeoning Hex at Voldemort. Forced to counter it, he lost his hold on Harry's mind, and the concentration on his Accio-like spell.

"It's over!" Dumbledore repeated firmly, but Voldemort continued to rebel against reason.

"You do not seek to kill me, as always, Dumbledore! I will not bow to your will when I have ample time to wreak destruction unharmed by your silly wand-waving! Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedavra!"

Harry expected the curses to come streaking at him and Dumbledore, but no-

They went pell-mell, helter-skelter into the forest, right where Harry knew Ron, Hermione, and Ginny to be. The only reason the aim faltered was because Dumbledore was busy casting shield charms to redirect the offending beams of emerald light.

"Avada-"

Harry's mouth opened and issued a surprising thunder of outcries and expletives. Before he even realized what he was doing, the teen found himself running and tackling... _tackling_!... Lord Voldemort. The Avada Kedavra died on the Dark Lord's lips, and Dumbledore was exclaiming something, but all other noise was dim in Harry's mind. Blood was rushing in his ears, and _power_- angry _power_, born of a total and utter desire to save his friends- began pulsing out of his very magical core. It zig-zagged like electricity up his veins; out his hands clawing at Voldemort's face, his arms; filling his vision with blinding white...

Voldemort was howling, Dumbledore was yelling even louder than before, and then suddenly there was the sensation of being lifted and flung through thin air.

* * *

A/N: Ahahaha evil, evil, evil! Oooh, I love cliffhangers! Except when they get backfired, so I guess you all have permission to kill me for this heinous act. I understand how frustrating it is :-) Hope you all enjoyed this incredibly exhausting chapter; what a long battle to write, woo! What's happened to Harry? Voldemort? And his friends?

We shall all see in chapter 31: "Suspicions"

The more who review, the faster I'll update!

**AngelMoon Girl**


	31. Suspicions: Part 1

Disclaimer: 'Hairy' Potter? What's that? Well it certainly isn't mine, no matter what it is...

A/N: Um, shameless self-promotion time... so I put up a bunch of new Harry Potter one shots; you wanna check 'em out for me? :-D I'm craving feedback! And one of my fics, "Merlin's Staff!" has only one measly review... *puppy dog face* Will you read it? Pwetty pwetty pwease wit suga on twop? ANYWAYS, I want to thank everyone by name for reviewing last chapter in "It Ends Now" as per usual... that's **Melora, Randomchick16, Kirby77DP77, jimmy-barnes-13, 10thWeasley, Cowabunga, TwilightsCalling, kittyrunner, Element's Sole Protector, iheartharryxxo, Haunted, iheartharry10xoxo, Hayley, jessie, herminione,** and **iheartharryxoxox**(haha you must have been desperate to leave so many reviews... I loved every one of them! Thanks so much!).

Yes, it's short. But I have a crapload of homework (grr college) and I just used my free time to write this. So be happy :-P If I fail though, I'm blaming you guys!!!

Postscript: Sorry about the delay! I've been attempting to upload this chapter for a couple days now, and continuously got an error message informing me that the "chapter could not be found"... damned irritating, since it's right here! Here's hoping that if you're reading this, all is well...

**It Ends Now**

Part 31: "Suspicions: Part 1"

Harry could feel his body twisting and undulating while airborne. Vaguely, he wondered if this was some strange aftereffect from expending one's power too much before every fiber of his body started screaming in pain. Dimly, the Boy-Who-Lived registered that he'd just hit a tree. Ow.

"This isn't the end, Dumbledore!" Voldemort was howling, and Harry staggered up. Suddenly, he was watching the Dark Lord and his Headmaster from within the safety of the woods. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were bolting for him, ashen but alive. Harry spared a concerned eye sweep for Ginny, then returned to playing spectator. From his blurred vantage point due to annoyingly cracked lenses, Harry could tell that Riddle was sporting boils and what looked like second or even third degree burns... _Did_ I _do that_?

"I will haunt your every move, you old coot! No one in your precious Order will be safe from me! ..._Retreat_!" And with those thundering parting words, Voldemort was gone in a swish and crack. Resounding sounds of disapparition echoed throughout the yard. Dumbledore seemed to deflate, wand falling to hang limply at his side as he searched out the Gryffindors. Harry limped out with his friends, anxiously watching Ginny stumble on his left.

"Gin-"

" 'm fine, Harry," Ginny cut in tiredly, but exasperation flecked her tone. Apparently, this wasn't the first time someone had inquired about her well-being in the past few minutes since she'd regained consciousness.

"Oh, Harry- _reparo_," Hermione flicked her wand, and Harry smiled as his glasses repaired themselves. Myopia was never fun...

"Thanks, Hermione. I really should start remembering that handy spell..."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. They'd reached Dumbledore now, and the man appraised their conditions with his idiosyncratic X-raying blue eyes working full-force. "Good, it seems no one is in immediate danger of death or disembowledge... Madam Pomfrey will have you four patched up in no time."

"Sir," Ginny piped up uncertainly. The Professor faced her.

"Yes, Miss Weasley?"

"I... I was wondering..." _How could you let this happen!? You said the wards would protect us! How could they fall? How could you lie? We trusted you! _"I... well, how did this happen? You said... the wards..."

Dumbledore seemed to know exactly what the youngest red-head was implying. No Legilimency was required to observe the betrayal marring Ginny's countenance, or the anger in Ron's. He sighed heavily, and Harry was once again struck by how _old_ he looked. The teen gazed pityingly at his fallible mentor as the wizard pondered the correct words to console Ginny with. Weary, sorrowful cerulean depths pinned the Fifth Year with intense... pleading? Harry couldn't be sure, but the Headmaster looked ready to weep. "I am so sorry that you had to witness the destruction of the Burrow. I assure you, Ginny, that I never expected an oversight, nor an assault, of this scale. I was certain the wards were secure; impenetrable... but I miscalculated the... _fidelity_ of the Order. Or some... though I cannot be sure now. We shall see."

Harry glanced at his comrades. Good- he wasn't the only one confused. "Professor, are you saying-"

"Not now, Harry. We shall discuss the matter once at Headquarters. I will be holding a special meeting and will permit the four of you to attend once Pomfrey has tended to any injuries. But first... Harry, come here, please."

Harry shuffled forward, feeling chagrined and very wrong-footed for some reason. It was second year all over again, after he and Ron had stolen the Ford Anglia... Dumbledore was wearing his disappointed expression, though it was not as severe as it had been four years ago. Dumbledore reached out and began kneading his student's raven head, raking his wizened fingers through the ebony locks gently.

"Sir...?" Harry kept his visage averted to school his sudden urge to snicker. Albus didn't speak until his fingertips brushed against an egg-sized lump on the boy's head. Harry winced. Was that always there?

"I apologize, Harry. I didn't mean to fling you so hard, but I had no choice," the Headmaster said, remorse gracing his baritone. He pulled his roming appendage away, continuing his admonishments. "You acted brazenly, without any considerations for your safety. Brave, but very foolish. You were lucky to have avoided being killed."

"I'm sorry. But... that was _you_?" Harry asked, surprised even as he blushed in shame. "_You_ blasted me away?"

"I feared if I did not do something to get you away from Voldemort, he might retaliate. That, or your own brash power was going to damage your magical core. You are a powerful wizard, Harry, but still a growing one. Your core has not matured yet, and such stress on it... well, I was afraid..."

"It would explode?" Harry elucidated keenly. Dumbledore nodded.

"Please have Madam Pomfrey check you for a concussion; you slammed against the tree very hard. And I'm sure you'll be wanting your hands and ankle healed as well."

Harry started, glaring at his bloody hands as if they'd committed some terrible umbrage against him. The Headmaster bent over and snatched up a piece of glass, ripped from one of the Burrow's many windows during a heat-induced explosion. "Portus," he mumbled, tapping it. The small pane shard glowed blue briefly. "It's a portkey to Grimmauld. I'll join you shortly-"

"_My parents_!" Ron suddenly exclaimed. If possible, the Keeper's complexion blanched further, every freckle standing incarnadine against his pallor. "Oh my God- are they...?"

"Fear not, Mr. Weasley. I myself witnessed them escape relatively unharmed and aid in the extinguishing of the fire. No doubt they will have some extravagantly adventurous story to tell you upon their return. But for now, they will stay to help recover what possessions were left unaffected in the Burrow. Now, it is unwise to linger in an unprotected area like this, even if I do not believe Tom will attack a second time tonight- Harry has unnerved him greatly-" Harry's startled green eyes jumped up to connect with Dumbledore's twin sapphires- "so... if you will...? Thank you. One, two, three."

The Gryffindor quartet, in varying states of shock and injury, were whisked away from the sight of the Burrow still smouldering. Harry heard Ginny sniffling, and a rush of sympathy overcame him, as well as an odd tightening in his own chest. The Burrow, his second home only to Hogwarts, was gone in a blazing inferno. Despite this mournful ache, Harry was happy.

Houses could always be rebuilt.

Families couldn't.

And- thank Merlin- the Weasleys' was still intact. Broken in spirit, for now, but... they were whole. And they were safe. All nine of them. Harry could've sobbed for joy.

* * *

Please review! The more who do, the quicker I'll update!

Next chapter: The Weasleys are reunited, but a shadow has fallen over the Order... Dumbledore's special meeting includes a dark revelation, we learn why the wards fell and why this is so significant... and lastly, Harry finds himself an unwilling conduit for Voldemort's wrath...

**AngelMoon Girl**


	32. Suspicions: Part 2

Disclaimer: Yeah, Harry Potter used to be mine... then it slipped from my fingers, a long time ago. So long ago, I can't remember it.

A/N: WOO! I'm back, after a nice long, erm, 4 month vacation. *Cough*. Don't murder me yet, alright? I've been crazy busy with school! I would like to thank last chapter's reviewers: **Valid User Name, LillyRose95, James018, Kirby77DP77, T, MCross, Cowabunga, TwilightsCalling, The Dark Lordess KARRRRMA, harrypotterisamazing, tobystephensfan, Elita One, harrylovesginny5, firehottie, QueenOfSparrabeth, JustAnotherParallelDimension, pianoplayerrxoxo, Queen of Crystallopia, Krrosec,** and **twilightpotterxoxo.**

**It Ends Now**

Part 32: "Suspicions: Part 2"

When the portkey deposited Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny into Grimmauld kitchen, they were mauled almost immediately by a frantic Madam Pomfrey. With intuition born of medical prowess, the woman made a lunge for pale Ginny and ushered her away for greater privacy. Before closing the door, the nurse sent a look at the Golden Trio that clearly warned them all not to disappear because they were next. Silence reigned for a few seconds after Pomfrey and Ginny's steps faded.

Ron fell bonelessly into a chair at the table and laid his red head in his arms. "How could this have happened?" he moaned, the query muffled. "The Burrow..."

Harry sighed, leaning against the wall and fingering at the various painful lacerations on his hands as he listened to his friends theorize.

"You heard what Dumbledore said. The wards fell," Hermione put in matter-of-factly. Ron sat up, grimacing at her.

"Yeah, but there's more to the story, isn't there? He called a 'special' meeting, and _we're_ invited. That means it must be bad," the teen responded.

"Or really important," Harry added, mind elsewhere. What had that raw _power _been? He'd experienced it before, when dementors attacked he and Hagrid in the Forest. It hadn't felt like accidental magic; not really... this had been more focused, and he'd been aware of it... goading it on, even. The Boy-Who-Lived started as a memory of one of the prophecy's lines came to mind.

_He will have power the Dark Lord knows not..._

Could this...?

Madam Pomfrey popped back into the kitchen at this most inconvenient moment, choosing to whisk Harry away second. After eyeballing the last two, she escorted the seeker upstairs and into the living room, mothering and fussing all the while.

"Ooh, just look at your hands- poor child, and magic burns too; were you caught in an explosion? Don't worry, I can mend these in an instant- and are you limping? How did you injure your foot? Oh dear, it's sprained, tut tut," Pomfrey rambled, mostly to herself for every time Harry opened his mouth, she'd changed topics. Instead, he just let her work, wordlessly reclined on the sofa as she examined his appendages. A few swishes of her wand later, Harry felt fully healed.

"Anything else I should be informed of?" the mediwitch finally inquired, straightening up and placing her hands on her hips. Harry, who had been admiring her handiwork by flexing the joints of his fingers and foot, started.

"Oh, um... Dumbledore wanted you to check for concussion. He, er... flung me into a tree."

"_Flung_ you into a _tree_!? Ooh, when I get my hands on the Headmaster-"

"Er, well I _was _being 'reckless'-" Harry tried to explain, though his assuagement seemed to have little effect on the matron. After fussing over the egg on Harry's head and performing a few tests, the woman finally deemed Harry healthy with naught but a warning about overexerting himself any time soon.

"Now I want you to head straight off to bed," she said. "You're exhausted, both physically and magically. Your body needs _rest_ to heal."

"But Dumbledore wanted me at an Order meeting-" Harry protested.

"I'm sure the Headmaster will have no qualms over you napping before then, Potter. Don't worry, your friends are receiving the same prognosis. The Order is going to be a while yet, anyways. Now _rest_."

Harry sighed grudgingly. "Yes, Madam Pomfrey."

He skulked off to the stairwell, watching as Pomfrey bustled down to retrieve another patient. She was still ranting under her breath something that sounded suspiciously like, "_Flung_ into a _tree_, of all things...", accompanied by various foul oaths. Harry chuckled; he didn't desire to be Dumbledore when the mediwitch got her hands on him! There was a flash of long red hair in the hallway upstairs, and Harry bounded the steps to intercept the girl to whom the tresses belonged to. Clothed in fuzzy blue pajamas, Ginny smiled as the sixth year approached.

"Clean bill of health?"

"Yep. All healed," Harry grinned, showing off with his previously sprained ankle. "You?"

"Well, I'm still a little sore, but Madam Pomfrey said the nerves would require a couple more potions before I'd feel totally normal again. She commented that the first time experiencing the Cruciatus is always the worst." Ginny grew somber. "I don't know how you do it, Harry."

"What?" Harry pressed, puzzled at the sudden change in mood.

"Endure the Cruciatus, like you did today. I'm _still_ in pain, and _you_ managed to fight it off like it was nothing!"

"Well, practice does make perfect," the boy replied darkly. "And I didn't fight it off. I just didn't scream. Giving Voldemort that satisfaction... well, I just refused to open my mouth, I guess."

"That's still commendable," Ginny smiled wryly. "I don't remember feeling like I had control of _any_ part of my body! God, I wanted to _die_. That was worse than being possessed!"

"Be lucky you don't have a connection with Voldemort. Otherwise, being possessed would hurt a lot more," Harry muttered, shuffling uncomfortably. He toed a loose floorboard as Ginny sighed. She shifted closer to him.

"I admire your courage so much, Harry. How brave you were today... I wish I could be like that," the fifth year whispered, and Harry gazed with surprise into her hazel-brown eyes. They were intense with heartfelt confession, and Harry realized she was sharing with him one of her deepest insecurities. He was immediately touched at the trust she found in him not to disparage or divulge her secret.

"You already are, Ginny."

She beamed, flushing, and Harry had to resist a strange urge to inch nearer to feel the warmth emanating off her face. "You tease!"

"No, really! You've done so much already, and not just through the DA. You've taken on Death Eaters, and now Voldemort _himself_! And you didn't run, either. You stood up to him and his followers. You upheld the ideals of the Light. That's more than many aurors can say," Harry told her earnestly.

She paused. "You're... you're right." The revelation gave Ginny food for thought, and as she stared into space in the hallway, Harry took the opportunity to wish her goodnight and slink off to bed. Loathed as he was to admit it, Pomfrey was right. He was _exhausted_.

oOo

When Harry next opened his eyes, it was to a darkened bedroom. The blinds had been drawn shut, and Ron was snoring loudly in the bed across from him. Feeling mercifully refreshed, Harry swung his legs over the edge of the bed and quietly traversed the floor to the dresser, pulling on a crimson caftan that served as a bathrobe. After a moment of indecision as Harry debated whether to wake the boy or not, the seeker settled on leaving Ron to rest. He had, after all, just lived through a traumatic experience and needed the peace sleep induced. Moving over to the door, Harry slipped soundlessly out and into the hallway. Hermione and Ginny's door was wide open, Crookshanks wreaking havoc with the mauve rug just inside. Harry smirked at the sight, then continued on downstairs and into the kitchen. He paused when all the adults positioned around the table turned to stare at him. Apparently, the Order meeting had already begun, with Ginny and Hermione paying rapt attention from their seats next to Mrs. Weasley.

"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore greeted from the head. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better, sir. Er... Ron was still sleeping and I decided to leave him be. Is that okay?"

"Perfectly understandable," the wizened mage nodded, and Mrs. Weasley smiled warmly at Harry. Dumbledore gestured to an empty chair on his left, next to Remus Lupin. "Please take a seat, Harry."

Harry complied, taking the offered chair nervously as Remus patted his shoulder genially. How should one conduct themselves at an Order meeting? He reckoned it was not unlike school, in a way, with Dumbledore acting as teacher. When aforementioned Headmaster cleared his throat, Harry quickly glanced around the table. He wondered why there were so few members present, but knew Dumbledore would probably address this issue in time. He was right- it was the first subject broached.

"First of all, I would like to welcome Harry, Hermione, and Ginny to the Order of the Phoenix's meeting. I am sure they will prove to be valuable assets to this discussion as we deliberate on what went wrong today and how to deal with the numerous repercussions involved."

Hermione blushed, Ginny grinned, and Harry fidgeted a little more. Valuable assets? Did Dumbledore think they would have useful knowledge to bring to the table? The boy wracked his brain for something important he may have overlooked, and came up empty. Although... would Dumbledore mention Harry's mysterious display of wild magic? The seeker blushed. He hoped not. The story itself was quite embarrassing- Snape would have a field day! Speaking of the overgrown bat, Harry glanced down at the other end of the table for said man. Finding him, Harry saw that Snape looked disgruntled, albeit admittedly interested. His obsidian eyes shifted to notice Harry watching him. Caught in the act, Harry decided staring at his knees was a much safer route than maintaining eye contact with the ex-Death Eater. Mind invasion and all that...

"Secondly, I know many of you are probably very confused as to why our numbers are so low tonight. This is my doing. I have called only my most trusted confidantes, and for this reason-" Here Dumbledore's voice become heavy and sorrowful, the twinkle all but gone from his eyes- "I believe... there is... a traitor in our midst."

Stunned silence followed this pronouncement until Professor McGonagall murmured in shock, "A traitor, Albus?"

Kingsley Shacklebolt shook his head in denial. "It can't be possible, Albus. It can't! We've taken so many precautions- and the Burrow's wards! Mr. and Mrs. Weasley-"

"Precisely," Dumbledore cut in, leaving Harry reeling for answers. What did Mr. and Mrs. Weasley have to do with the wards? He remembered this being mentioned previously to him, but the possibilities still left the sixteen-year-old curious. "Only an Order member could have brought down the wards; we all know this."

"Excuse me, sir," Hermione intoned shyly. "But... what if an Order member didn't bring down the wards? Couldn't Voldemort have simply overpowered the enchantment?"

Snape snorted, and the Headmaster threw him a look of warning before answering, "A very good question, Hermione. I suppose I ought to take the time to explain for you, Ginny, and Harry the gist of the protection wards, shouldn't I?"

* * *

A/N: Aaaaand, you'll have to wait until next chapter to hear Dumbledore's explanation. I am WAY too tired *yawn*. Please review, and stay tuned- chapter 33 "Blood" will be along shortly! With multiple meanings *eyebrow squiggle*.

**AngelMoon Girl**


	33. Blood

Disclaimer: I fear I shall be proclaiming my utter lack of rights to Harry Potter until I go blue in the face. Ack, oxygen!

A/N: I feel like I'm on a roll ^^! It's so nice being on vacation and having free time, but I must warn everyone- I'm going back to work and school in a week *sob*. But when hasn't life been busy, I ask? I want to thank all who reviewed the past couple days: **TwilightsCalling, Kirby77DP77, Cowabunga, JustAnotherParallelDimension, Valid User Name, anypotter, cyiusblack, harylovesginny5,** and **oldhollywood **(yes, I know there's a period between the words in your pen-name, but for some reason when I include it, Fanfiction's system deletes it o.O Sorry!).

**It Ends Now**

Part 33: "Blood"

Dumbledore cleared his throat, blue eyes finding Harry. "The protection I set up around the Burrow was not unlike the wards around the Dursleys' home. The survival of these wards was dependent on blood- blood from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, courtesy of a potion made by Professor Snape." The Headmaster sighed heavily here, looking for all the world to have been burdened with a millstone. Harry sympathized with his old professor's guilt- he knew perfectly well what a suffocating feeling it was to be responsible for the lives of many people. One wrong decision could cost them all... "I never thought, for an instant, that an attack of this magnitude would end up launched against us. I took every precaution- sequestered Molly and Arthur in their home, only let Order members contact them... but I fear I overlooked the possibility of a traitor."

He sighed again, and Professor McGonagall spoke up, "It was not your fault, Albus. None of us were prepared to believe a spy might be hiding in our ranks."

"And yet, we should have," Remus intoned sadly from beside Harry. Harry glanced sidelong into the man's haunted features. "It happened once; it can always happen again. Not every person is as they seem."

Harry glared into his lap, frowning angrily. _Wormtail... rat who not only brought down the first Order, but his parents and Neville's as well... _He felt Dumbledore's eyes on him again, and lifted his head. The man gave Harry a very apologetic look.

"P-professor," Ginny voiced shakily. "How... how did the wards come down if my parents' blood was the key to maintaining them?"

"I've been wondering that too," Kingsley nodded. "It had to have been Christmas night... the whole Order was there."

Dumbledore gazed almost inquiringly at the eldest Weasleys. "The spy would have needed a few drops of your blood. In this case, I would not rule out a simple memory charm being utilized... But, for the record- Arthur, Molly... did any member of the Order approach you Christmas night, perhaps acting oddly?"

"No," Mr. Weasley replied automatically, shaking his head. "No one seemed suspicious, and I can't recall being accosted at any point. You, Molly?"

"Me neither," the plump matriarch concurred, eyes pensive as she wracked her brain for clues. "And if someone wanted our... blood..." The woman suddenly let out a shuddery gasp, trailing off, and the room stilled.

"Molly?" Albus prompted, staring solicitously at her reaction.

"Oh, Albus... dear Merlin," Mrs. Weasley moaned, clawing at her white face. "I made it only too easy," she murmured.

"Molly! You must tell us what happened," Dumbledore pressed gently, but there was the merest suggestion of... something, in his tone. Harry furrowed his brow; it sounded like panic, or maybe worry. He could not tell for sure; those emotions sounded foreign when inflected in his Headmaster's voice. "Do you know who took your blood?"

Mrs. Weasley seemed to come back to herself at this, though her countenance was no less agonized. "No, because no one confronted me. I... I'm afraid I surrendered my blood only too easily, though. I got distracted in my dinner preparations, and cut myself on the knife slicing potatoes. Harry was there, he wanted to help, and I... I think I tossed the towel I'd wrapped around the nick back on the counter after healing it. I was very busy and... oh God... I just _left_ it there! Merlin, any one could have stolen it... and I don't remember seeing the towel again after that, but I didn't even think to check... Merlin, _I'm_ the reason the Burrow... the Burrow is..."

Mrs. Weasley buried her face in her hands, crying softly. Harry watched her being comforted by Mr. Weasley, struck by a memory of that night-

_Feeling full, Harry watched his friends socialize before deciding he'd help lone Mrs. Weasley prepare dinner as she shuffled around the tight space. Her wand was constantly moving as she directed the stew to broil and onions to dice themselves. Her other hand was slicing potatoes nimbly. He halted her frenzied chopping to inquire,_

_"Mrs. Weasley? Need any help?"_

_"No, dear, I- ouch!" She dropped the knife with a cry, spots of blood leaking from her cut. Mrs. Weasley grabbed a dishtowel and wrapped it around her finger to staunch the flow. Harry asked if he could do something for it._

_"Thank you, Harry, you're very kind... but I can handle it." She unwrapped the towel and tossed it to the side, brandishing her wand. With a muttered incantation, the wound healed instantly, leaving her finger as unblemished as before. The motherly woman smiled at Harry. "One of the useful charms to know being a mother of seven- especially, of boys." Harry laughed, seeing her point._

_"Are you sure you can't put me to work with something?"_

_Mrs. Weasley gave him an appraising look. "You really want to help that badly?"_

_Harry nodded._

_"Alright. You can help chop the rest of the potatoes; I need to get Albus' mince pie and brandy to him."_

"Molly... _Molly_! Molly, please... look at me," Albus encouraged softly; calmly breaking through the worst of her sobs with a firm demand. She complied after a few seconds, sniffing. "Listen to me- it. was. not. your. fault. Mistakes happen; I, of all people, can attest to that fundamental truth. The blame you seek to burden yourself with lies solely with Voldemort, for it is _he_ who plucked one of our members and managed to turn them to the Darkness."

Mr. Weasley, who still had an arm wrapped around his wife's shoulders and appeared ashen under a mop of bright red hair, queried, "Is it possible the Imperius Curse could have been involved, Albus? I mean, maybe this 'traitor' isn't really a traitor after all, but an unfortunate member who was forced into succumbing to You-Know-Who's wishes."

"It is possible," Dumbledore admitted, but he was cut off by Snape's sharp,

"Nevertheless, Imperiused traitor or not, this leak is a liability. Who knows what information the Dark Lord has managed to procure from their mind?"

Silence proceeded this morose fact. Nymphadora Tonks sighed. "At least Headquarters is still safe. Thank goodness Professor Dumbledore was made Secret Keeper..."

Dumbledore smiled weakly at Tonks. "Thank you for your faith, but I regret to think of what dangerous repercussions might follow if we do not act on this revelation. Botched assaults, and not to mention everyone in this room is now at greater risk for discovery. If Voldemort _has_ obtained knowledge of the Order, then he would learn names, homes, any future plans at heading him off..."

"What are we going to do?" Mrs. Weasley whispered.

"What we have always done, only now, with tighter security, false leads, less full member meetings, a touch of Veritaserum, and the intent to catch our spy," Dumbledore proclaimed seriously, but any elucidations that may have followed were interrupted by Harry's scar exploding. In one fluid moment, the boy was clutching his head and jerking around, screaming. The kitchen seemed to freeze in equal surprise and horror as Harry arched violently backward. The chair made a loud scratching noise as it was forced away from the table. Within a second, Harry's body slipped beneath the wooden surface and he was on the floor, writhing in pain. Only then did the Order mobilize, shaking themselves from shock and lunging for the seeker.

"What's wrong with Harry?" Ron's tremulous voice exclaimed as the Keeper, no doubt roused by his best friend's cries, entered the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley made a grab for her son, trying to keep him back as Ron attempted to go to Harry's side. "Harry- no, let me go! Mum, _let me go_! He _needs_ me; he always needs me after these spells-"

"STAY BACK!" Dumbledore shouted to those clamoring closer, a hand raised in alarm as he knelt to crouch beside Harry. With a flick of his wand, the chair impeding Harry's movement was banished and everyone seemed to quiet- watching; waiting for their Chosen One's most recent episode to end. Dumbledore grabbed Harry's hand, muttering something only the boy could hear.

To Harry, unwilling conduit to Voldemort's fury, the torment seemed to go on forever as he was drawn unconsciously into a vision.

_Lord Voldemort was_ not _in a forgiving mood._

_"CRUCIO!" he screeched, for what seemed the umpteenth time tonight. The ninth Death Eater dropped like a toy- they all did- and began twitching in agony. Lazily, the Dark Lord watched as the man howled out the pain of his torture. The throne room of his second hide-out (damned traitor Severus and his pet Potter being the reason for the move from Riddle House) was deathly silent, but shivers grasped at the Death Eaters circling their comrade... they knew they were next. Their insubordination, and subsequent failure, meant none would come out of this meeting unscathed._

_"P-please, my Lord... please..."_

_"You think you have known pain, Dolohov? ... I will show you how wrong you are. Sectumsempra!" Voldemort hissed, using one of his favorites of Severus', gloating inwardly over the ways he would use the professor's curses against him... oh, how sweet revenge would be..._

_Dolohov made a sound in his throat as the spell sent his blood splattering onto the floor from a chest and face wound._

_"Stand up, Dolohov. Rudolph, Macnair... my little... _leadersss_." There was a collective shudder at the way Voldemort enunciated his final word._

_"Crucio," the serpentine Dark Lord uttered venomously, sneering when Rudolph Lestrange hit the ground. His wife shifted almost eagerly in the throng, but Voldemort ignored Bella. He ended the Unforgivable and started in on Macnair, leaving Lestrange to gasp against the dirty ground._

_"Stupid, useless,_ disobedient _little servants! How DARE you launch an attack without my say so!"_

_"M-My Lord," Rudolph whimpered. "M-my Lord, we are sorry, we acted without thinking... but the spy, he had the blood; it was too good an opportunity to pass up, and you- you were away-"_

_"SILENCE!" Voldemort roared, slashing his wand. Rudolph was suddenly sporting a crimson face, choking through the blood dribbling down from the laceration lining his profile._

_"You never do ANYTHING without consulting me first! Your derelictions are not without err, and now you shall reap the price!"_

"Harry... Harry, you must force him out. Clear your mind..." _Harry heard as if from far away in Dumbledore's gentle baritone. _"Fight it, Harry. Occlude!"

_"I have now lost ten more Death Eaters to your asinine, unplanned assault," Voldemort growled. "CRUCIENDO!"_

_The pain... it was destroying all sense, but Dumbledore's voice returned like coaxing, warm phoenix song: _"Harry, you can do it... just close your mind; push him out-"

_Harry mentally scrunched up his face, shoving the vision's hold on him for all he was worth- it was so exhausting, so futile- Voldemort was still scolding angrily, clear as day... but Harry just wanted to be back in Grimmauld, in his own brain..._

_"We will never succeed in our ultimate plan; never be rid of the boy and all other threats to my domination if you continue KILLING OFF MY FOLLOWERS IN HALF-CALCULATED MISSIONS!"_

"Harry, come on, you are strong enough to do this-"

_"Blithering fools-"_

"Harry..."

_"Idiotic, senseless-"_

"I can't... I... I can't," Harry heard himself muttering, and something squeezed his hand tightly.

"I believe you can," Dumbledore countered calmly, the proclamation resounding throughout Harry's brain.

_I believe you can..._

_With supreme effort, Harry yanked himself from Voldemort's raving thoughts. He thought about Ron, Hermione, Ginny... Professor Dumbledore... Remus, Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley..._

_Sirius. Mum. Dad._

_He thought about them all._

_He thought about Love, just as he had during the possession Fifth Year. And then, suddenly, it was so much easier to relinquish himself from Voldemort; to clear his mind of all that was burdensome..._

_Harry mentally built a wall between him and the angry, swirling mass that was Voldemort and the vision. And then he let go-_

_Drifting. Free._

Harry's eyes seemed to snap open of their own volition, and he breathed a sigh of relief as the pain receded in his scar. Dumbledore's wrinkled but joyful face was inches from his, and there was a wet cloth on his forehead. The Boy-Who-Lived smiled blissfully up at Dumbledore, now gingerly patting at the caked blood over his lightning mark.

"I think I know how to improve my Occlumency, sir."

* * *

A/N: Thought I'd end the chapter on a bit of a happier note, seeing as most of them have been downright cruel cliffhangers ^^

Please review, as I tend to be more motivated to write if I'm seeing that people are interested and want more. Hope these last few chapters have lived up to expectation!

**AngelMoon Girl**


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